


According to Me, Accordion to You

by dedougal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a guitarist without a band. Jared has a band in need of a guitarist. If only it was that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	According to Me, Accordion to You

  
Moving to San Antonio had been one of those decisions that Jensen had never expected to have to make. More than that. It was a decision he never wanted to make. If he’d been asked which city in the whole United States he wanted to move to, Nashville would have been top of his list, closely followed by LA, New York, even San Francisco. Not San Antonio. Not that there was anything wrong with San Antonio. It was nice as cities went. Big. Little touristy. Decent restaurants.

But it wasn’t home and it wasn’t where he’d expected to end up.

Jensen knew he shouldn't feel nervous about auditions. He should mainly feel depressed, in fact. He had been a key member of the band back in Dallas. He could do back up vocals and strum his guitar with the best of them. But there was a big difference between playing with the band he'd been with since high school and auditioning for strangers. One band turned him down because he wasn't country enough. He'd shown up in his jeans and a Zepplin t-shirt for that one. So he'd gone all out with the boots and hat and been told he was too much. They hadn't even listened to him play. There was a couple of don't call us type auditions too. Jensen was pretty fed up. He'd thought it would be easy enough to find a new group of people to play with.

Pete at his new office had caught him surfing Craigslist at lunch and fallen into easy conversation.

“You play guitar?” Pete had asked.

Jensen felt a little guilty. He hadn’t really opened up much to his co-workers. He wanted to feel out the prevailing attitude before he revealed much about himself. His hobbies. His likes and dislikes. His preferences. “Yeah. I’m hunting for a band.”

“Is it just country? Or do you play anything?” Pete seemed to be asking out of more than sheer curiosity.

“I guess I’ve pretty much just played country. But I do like a bit of rock and some folk. I’m a quick learner.” Jensen stopped before he came off as immodest. There was a fine line between selling yourself and boasting.

“My friend – Jared – his band was looking for a guitarist.” Pete reached over to his desk to retrieve his cell from the litter of paper and files. “You should give him a call.”

“You sure?” Jensen asked. He wasn’t going to be best friends with Pete but he would have to work with him and if his friend turned him down… All the same, it was the best lead Jensen had been offered since he moved here. Pete handed him a post it with the name Jared and a list of digits. Jensen tucked it safely into his top pocket. Wouldn’t hurt to try.

 

  


Jared could have yelled at Pete when he told him what he’d done. He took deep breaths and calmed himself down. “You don’t just go handing out my phone number to random guys.”

Pete leaned across the table separating them. “Not like you do?”

“I don’t hand out my number to random guys!” Jared threw back across the table. Pete took a slow slip of beer and raised his eyebrow. “They give their numbers to me,” Jared retorted, grabbing his own beer for a drink. There was an element of Thursday night ritual here. They would grab a booth at the back of the bar and watch whatever sport happened to be on, drink a few beers, maybe play some pool. It was leftover from high school, where they’d gathered in basements or out on the fringes of the sports fields at school. They still drank pretty much the same amount of beer.

“Uh huh,” Pete said. He was one of the first of his friends to come to terms with Jared’s love life. In as much as anyone really had trouble accepting what they’d all pretty much guessed. Pete had clapped Jared on the shoulder and merely gave him shit for thinking that it was a surprise to anyone. Jared had never forgotten that, especially when his classmates had started giving him more trouble. He always owed Pete the first beer.

Pete was picking at the label on his bottle, obviously wanting to tell Jared something but not too sure how to begin.

“Just out with it, Pete.” Jared took another drink. His bottle was shifting from ice cold to that mediocre cool that tipped really quickly into undrinkable warmth.

“We were thinking… Are you happy?” Pete just about choked on his beer as he took a swallow to cover the awkwardness.

Jared felt a jolt. “Yeah, of course I am.”

“It’s just… I’m going to ask Lauren to marry me. We’re going to try for a family. And I want you to be my best man. And we were talking. About numbers. And we were trying to work out if we’d need to leave a space for your date. And we were thinking about how long it had been…” Pete trailed off, still refusing to meet Jared’s eyes.

Jared knew what Pete was talking about. It seemed like all his friends were married or getting there. He was the only one who seemed permanently single. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to,” Jared shrugged off the concern. “Let’s talk about you – dates, man. I need dates so I can organize your Bachelor Party.”

“You have a really disturbing level of interest in strippers for a gay dude, you know that,” Pete grumbled as he dropped the uncomfortable conversation topic. “We’re thinking August.”

It was only later after a few too many celebratory beers that Jared wondered what the hell this potential guitarist had to do with him bringing a date to Pete’s wedding. Jared shrugged it off. Maybe Pete was seeing matchmaking opportunities everywhere.

 

  


Jensen hesitated over the number for a long time. He’d stuck it to the fridge with a magnet/bottle opener that Chris had given him as a housewarming gift. That and a case of beer. It was the only magnet stuck to the fridge in the tiny kitchen. Their fridge… Jensen stopped thinking about _that_ and got on with getting his dinner together. There was something vaguely pathetic about sitting around his apartment on a Friday night but he reckoned that he was better getting the last of his things organized rather than running into any problems downtown. He’d go exploring when Chris came up for a visit in a few weeks.

The last of the unpacking soon gave way to a rerun of CSI that slipped into another episode and before he knew it, Jensen was waking at three in the morning to infomercials. He stumbled to his bed, throwing himself down and burrowing into the covers in order to warm himself up. He used to sleep with his feet out of the sheets before, always too warm with another body in the bed. But now, here he was, alone and cold and fucking friendless on a Friday night. It was too late to call anyone either.

Jensen resolved, then and there, to stop being such a sad sack and to man up and call Jared in the morning. The worst thing he faced was rejection and he’d had plenty of experience with that lately.

 

  
Jared was not happy to be woken by his ring tone very, very early on Saturday morning. He blearily swiped at the noise, thumping the warm body in the bed next to him as he did so. A very feminine moue of complaint issued out of the bundle of duvet. That woke Jared a little more.

He found his cell buried in the pile his pants and shirt had made on the floor presumably when he’d dumped them off. He could feel the person shifting on the bed behind him but ignored it in favor of destroying the source of the noise that was causing his brain to throb.

“Hwa?” Jared hoped the person on the other end would understand.

“Oh. Um. Ah.” The person sounded completely confused and nervous. Jared cleared his through.

“Hello,” he tried again.

“Is this Jared Padalecki? My colleague Pete gave me your number. About the band?” The words came out in a rush and Jared had to sort through them in his head before they made sense.

He took a deep breath to settle the nausea churning in his stomach before answering. Much as he wanted to yell at the guy, he didn’t reckon either his headache could take it or that the rest of the band would be too happy with him. They needed a guitarist. “Yeah. That’s me. Umm. Tomorrow afternoon? We got a practice at two. I’ll text you the address. That okay?”

“Sounds great.” At least the guy didn’t have one of those squeaky annoying voices. His voice was low and kinda nice to listen to. Jared could imagine that kind of voice growling in his ears. He had drifted into a little moment imagining it before he realized that he should probably answer.

“What was your name again?” That was not that smooth. But then neither was calling at- Jared checked the clock. Its red numbers told him it wasn’t that early. Not unless he’d slept the clock around and it was 3am and the sunlight stabbing his eyes didn’t seem to add weight to that theory.

“I’m Jensen. Jensen Ackles.” The voice was smooth, a definite drawl in it. Jared smiled at that. He liked guys who carried that rough in their voices. The lump on the bed shifted.

“Jared?” Gen’s head popped out of the covers. She was still wearing most of her makeup from last night. And most of her clothes. That was probably a good thing.

“I gotta go,” Jared said. “I’ll text you the address. And see you tomorrow.”

He hung up without waiting for a reply. The headache that had been teasing his temples slammed into the rest of his brain, making him wince. “Last night?”

“You dragged me out. Talked about finding the love of your life. Drank way, way too much pink liquor and then we must have got back here somehow.” Gen rolled over. “You offered to make me your platonic life mate, which was nice. You also asked me to take you hard at one point.”

Jared pulled the covers over his head. At least he was still wearing his boxers. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay. You get to buy me jewelery to make up for the mental trauma.” Gen slumped back against the pillows. “Turn the light off?”

“The sun? I don’t think it works like that.” Noises from outside the room were starting to make their way into Jared’s consciousness. He should make a move, grab a shower. He hoped his mom had let the dogs out. He could hear the lawnmower start up next door. “You want to shower?”

“You go first. I’m going to wait for the room to stop spinning.” Gen made a twirling gesture with her finger. “If I come in to puke, don’t get the wrong idea.”

“I know you want me for my body.” Jared shifted off the bed. He dashed off a text to the number at the top of the calls list and saved it as Jensen before he forgot. Then he looked down the list of calls from last night.

“I think you’ll find that I want you for your propensity to buy me booze.” Gen said, before she prodded at the unmoving Jared. “What? What’s up?”

“I called, like, all my exes.” Jared stared in horror at the call history.

“What’s with that? You were offering marriage to them all. Even Crazy Seal Steve. Who is in Hawaii now.” Gen grabbed the phone from Jared. “Go shower. You smell like you fell into a vat of tequila or something.”

Jared might have muttered something along the lines of “I wish I had” as he staggered through to the tiny shower room. He’d thought it was the best idea ever – convert the garage into a self-contained apartment. You can rent it when I leave, Mom, it’ll be great. But then months became years became Jared Padalecki, 28, living at home after college. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t the basement they’d converted. He started the shower and stared numbly at the fast flowing water before stepping in. He thanked his stars for hot water as it started to ease the tension in his neck. He groaned in relief.

 

  
Jensen decided to go cautious for this one. He’d been sent an address in a residential area, which he promptly street viewed to get a better idea of where he was going. Typical San Antonio suburbs. He thought he’d be safe without the hat. He had it in the backseat of his truck just the same. He kept the boots. He secretly kinda liked the boots.

He probably should have given up the truck, gone for something more environmentally friendly and easier to park. But the truck was one of the few things he’d brought into the relationship from hell and he was sure as hell taking it out again. Most everything else he’d happily left behind.

He took a long breath after parking, then slid out. His guitar was in the back, so he grabbed it and headed up the path leading to the front door. The lawn was an even green, freshly mown and well maintained. There were even flowers around the edges. Jensen started to wonder if he should bring the hat. This looked like the conservative type of band. Maybe he should just tell Pete it didn’t work out and head back to the apartment in defeat. Of course the door swung open before he could manage that.

An older man looked a little confused to see him. The awkward silence stretched for a long moment.

“Hi. I’m Jensen.” Jensen looked at the number of the house and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He was going to kill someone if that guy had sent him to the wrong house. The guy at the door was staring at his feet rather hard and Jensen just knew he should have worn the hat. Instead the guy leaned back into the house.

“Jared!” He yelled the name at the top of his lungs. Then he left the door open and headed into the house.

Jensen rocked on his heels. He obviously had the right place. Jared was the name of Pete’s friend after all. He wondered if he should follow the guy in. There was the sound of someone running and Jensen saw a figure followed by two large dogs coming really quickly down the hallway. When the guy stopped (mainly by grabbing onto the doorway) he gave Jensen the quick once over. Anywhere else, that would mean Jensen was being checked out. Here, it just made him feel uncomfortable.

And he’d distinctly heard a girl’s voice on that short phone call yesterday.

The guy was hot, he supposed. Taller than Jensen, which was nice. His shoulders were broad under a loud plaid shirt (and that should definitely be a STRAIGHT hint, because, really, who wore that?) and his face had laughter lines. Of course, his hair needed cutting and he looked a little too energetic for Jensen’s tastes. But, nice. Jensen could appreciate nice.

He needed to rebound and soon.

The guy held out a hand. “I’m Jared. Please tell me you’re Jensen?”

“Yeah. That’s me.” Jensen shook, hand engulfed in a warm, broad palm. “The guitarist.”

Jared looked a little shamefaced. “I couldn’t remember what time I’d told you to come over. I was a little drunk still, I think. Anyway. Do you eat?”

Jensen rocked back on his heels. “What?”

“I mean. Have you eaten? Cause it turns out that my parents are having a barbecue and I totally forgot and I guess you could meet everyone and hear us play and then we could talk about what we could do. If you like.” Jared grabbed at one of the dogs as it tried to get past his long legs.

Jensen was about to volunteer to come back later. “I don’t want to intrude…”

His protests were cut off by a girl worming her way under Jared’s arm. She only came up to his collarbone. “You have to come in. It’s not your fault Jared is an enormous dick.”

Jensen couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that. He kept his eyes firmly raised, fixed on Jared’s face. There was no need for him to let his eyes dip below Jared’s waistband to check if he was actually sporting an “enormous dick”. Like his height, and the size of his hands, might suggest. So maybe this guy could be a little hot. More than just nice.

“I’ll come in for a bit then.”

 

Jared whisked his guitar off to one end of the porch at the back of the house and offered Jensen a drink. Jensen settled for a soda. He did have work tomorrow. He could feel the tension of being around people he didn’t know settling into the spot between his shoulders though. Maybe a beer would loosen that up. It didn’t matter. Jared seemed intent on introducing him to as many people as he humanly could. The dark haired girl at the door had been Gen and she was there with a few other people who knew Jared from school. Older people – neighbors, friends of his parents – tended to stick to their own groups. Pete showed up with his girlfriend after a while. Jensen had been sitting on the edges of a conversation about types of tequila and was pleasantly surprised to get a slap on the shoulder from him.

“Jared mixed up the time,” Jensen explained, apologetically. Pete rolled his eyes as if to say that was typical Jared and started talking about the office. It was nice, actually, to get the lowdown on everything like this, relaxed and informal. The sun was shining on the backyard, kids were playing in the pool and Jensen felt like he knew this. This was like the Sunday afternoons he used to have back home, lounging around the back yard with his guitar and his friends and, well, the ex. He soured those memories, tainted them. That was what Jensen was mostly angry at now.

Jared came out of the kitchen and planked another bowl of chips down on the table. Then he grabbed a handful and stuffed them into his mouth. He ignored the groans of disgust. “I’m going for a swim. Anyone? Jensen?” Jared looked like a hopeful puppy but Jensen gestured down at his jeans and waved him off. Jared pouted, mockingly, before stripping off his t-shirt and throwing it at Gen. Jensen spent a moment in dazed lust before Jared jumped into the pool and broke the spell. He took a sip from his can of soda to cover his momentary lapse.

Jesus. Jared _was_ hot. Gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. Fuck. He was tanned all over – Jensen hadn’t seen a tan line where the low waistband of the shorts had dipped down. Instead he had seen smooth, golden skin, stretched over sharply defined muscles. A trail of dark hair dipping into the low waistband of the shorts. Jensen had a moment of revelation of why it was called a happy trail. He shifted forward in his seat, letting his loose shirt hang down. Jensen’s mind reran the way Jared had stretched up when shucking his t-shirt. There had been a tattoo, low on his hip, just showing above the shorts. Jensen couldn’t be sure, couldn’t be absolutely certain beyond a doubt, but he rather imagined he’d seen a rainbow painted on Jared’s skin.

Jensen took another drink of soda. His mouth was all kinds of dry.

There was a shout from behind him. Food was ready. Jensen let the others round the table head up first. He was still a little uncomfortable. These people seemed to just want him to act like he’d always been there, been part of the gang. It was a nice feeling, actually. Jensen was alone at the table when Jared pulled himself out of the pool. He put his hands wide on the side of the pool and effortlessly lifted himself free. The muscles in Jared’s arms bulged in a most attractive manner, the muscles in his back tightening too. Jensen knew he should look away, watch elsewhere, but there was something so comfortable in the way Jared swung himself out of the pool, grabbed a towel from a nearby chair and rubbed it over himself.

The weight of the water had dragged down the waistband of those sinfully low shorts. Jensen caught another glimpse of the tattoo. Definitely a rainbow. A small, thumbsize one. But there. Jensen couldn’t miss the symbolism. He knew he needed to move but he couldn’t help himself. Jared soaking wet was like real life porn. Jensen’s eyes slid to where the cloth clung over Jared’s package. The bulge there looked to be in proportion. The hand on his shoulder drew him out of his contemplation.

“Hey man,” Pete said, friendly and light. Jensen knew the way he jerked at the sudden shock was neither smooth nor subtle. “You ready for some meat.”

Jensen had to bite down on his lip to not laugh. That was one way of putting it.

 

  
Jared had felt that his eyes had nearly dropped out of his head when he first caught sight of Pete’s friend. He was so… Yeah. There wasn’t much getting around it. He was hot. Gorgeous. In fact gorgeous didn’t even come near to describing the man standing on the doorstep. Jared had checked him out head to toe without even stopping to think about the consequences. Jensen had looked uncomfortable then, in his faded jeans and button down shirt. He even had cowboy boots on, the adorable dork. Jared could see a hat resting on the dash of the truck behind him. So, very, very butch and yet all kinds of camp at the same time.

Jared had enjoyed watching Jensen relax, watching him enter slowly into the circle of friends he’d shoved him into the middle of. Jared had watched the wariness fade from Jensen’s face, revealing a gentle smile and a sparkle in his green eyes. His gaydar was pretty damn on target and Jensen was sending off strong signals. Maybe he shouldn’t push it, but Jared just had to make sure. He vanished into his house, threw on his swim trunks and headed back into the back yard. He teased the t-shirt off, ignoring the knowing looks from his other friends and dived into the water. It was pretty nice. After the debauchery of Friday night, he still felt a little out of it. The swim cleared that right up.

He caught Jensen watching him as he levered himself out of the water, watched his gaze snag on the tattoo that had to be showing. He knew exactly what he was doing, winding Jensen up like that. But he was surprised to find he was quite enjoying it. Jared shook his head. This wasn’t what he was after. It wasn’t like the love of his life was going to show up at his door with a guitar in hand. And he had sworn off one-night stands.

He shrugged back into his t-shirt and grabbed a plate from his momma. She was giving him the side-eye but he ignored it to sit on the grass and chew his way through the plate of food. Pete was waggling significant eyebrows over his own dinner, but Jared also ignored them in favor of finally getting around to asking Jensen about his music.

He was just about to explain about why they wanted to add a guitarist to the band when his dad came up and tapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come play for a bit? Your grandparents are going to be heading off soon.”

Jared looked up at his dad. He knew he’d pissed him off by not telling him about Jensen coming over to audition. But he quickly nodded and headed over to the far side of the porch. His dad had arranged a few chairs in a rough circle and Jared settled himself, lifting his own instrument into his lap. His dad fiddled with his trumpet for a moment, tightening his valves while Eric settled behind the snare drum. Jared fingered the first few notes in order to loosen off his fingers while his dad nodded his readiness. Eric tapped out the beat and they swung into the first tune.

Jared knew the tunes well enough by now that he could let the muscle memory carry his playing. He looked across the head of the others now gathered in a loose circle on the lawn to find Jensen still sitting where he’d left him. Jensen didn’t look delighted or pleased. Or even amused. Instead Jensen looked utterly horrified.

Jared squeezed the bellows of his accordion back and forth, let his fingers wander up and down the keyboard as he fell into the usual tunes his family expected from him. Jensen watched him with one hand over his mouth and Jared felt his heart sink.

 

  
Jensen made a big show of looking at his watch and scrambling for his car shortly after Jared started playing. He couldn’t stay. He’d hoped he would get to play with a band, fine, but not with a fucking polka band. There were limits.

And an accordion.

All the jokes about accordion players started whirling around Jensen’s brain. The fact that according to Chris, the only good accordion was the one burning to keep you warm. What did an accordion player and a lover of music have in common? Absolutely nothing. What’s the difference between an accordion and an onion? You cry when you chop up an onion… Of course, to add insult to injury, when Jensen got home he realized he’d left his guitar at the Padaleckis’ place. There was no way he could go back, not now. Maybe he could ask Pete to get it in the morning. It just seemed to symbolize everything that was wrong in his life. He couldn’t keep a job, a band or a man. By the time Jensen had calmed down enough to settle again, it was night time. He had his phone out and was staring at it.

He could call Chris. He could call Steve. Hell, he could even call Andrew.

Fuck. Jensen set the phone to charge and headed into the bedroom resolutely. He was capable of coping by himself. He was thirty-two. Too old to be acting like this. Of course, lying back on the bed and shutting his eyes brought a very unwelcome sight. That of Andrew stretched out on their bed entwined with his ex-college roommate. “We just connected again” was all the apology Jensen got. He’d spent a week, miserable, on Chris’ couch. And then came the call from work – we want to transfer you to San Antonio. Not a promotion, not the one he’d been so fucking near to getting. Instead he was moving across the state to a new city, a new apartment and the bottom of the scrapheap again.

Jensen punched the pillow and rolled over. He’d been so sure of things. Of everything. The band was going to make it big, maybe. Or he’d get that promotion and he and Andrew would take the trip to Canada they’d been hinting around. Three years of his life he’d given to him. After he’d loaded up his truck with all the things he owned, the stories started to come of nights out and twinks and friends of friends…

Sleep was just not going to come. Jensen fumbled through the mess of CDs and wires on his nightstand, switched on the light and shoved his glasses onto his nose. He finally located the battered paperback he had picked up in a gas station and started to read. It was nearing four in the morning before he finally put the book down.

 

Pete was all smiles the next day at work and Jensen felt guilty about ditching.

“You should have stayed around. Jared always gets funny with that accordion after a few more beers.” Pete handed over the file he was carrying.

Jensen flicked through it while his computer warmed up. “Yeah. When you asked about the band, I thought you meant they played country.”

“Nah, Jared is old school. Not that they don’t throw in the odd country tune and whatever. I swear he can make that instrument do anything.” Pete leaned closer. “Although from the way you were looking at him, I’d have said you were looking to see if he could play another instrument skilfully.” Pete actually winked.

Jensen turned to log on to his machine and then waved to Pete. He was too embarrassed to admit to anything. He hadn’t really looked at anyone in a long time, he supposed, and he had no idea about clubs anymore. He’d never been much of one for dancing. That had been Andrew’s thing. The reminder made Jensen stab at the keyboard rather more forcefully than was probably good for it.

 

The day had yet another unpleasant surprise in store, naturally. Jensen came back from the Xerox machine just before his lunch break to find Jared standing over his work station with his guitar.

“Hey, man,” Jared said easily. He stood out a mile, wearing loose jeans and a bright red t-shirt. Jensen looked down at his neatly pressed slacks and crisp shirt. He’d picked one of his favorite ties to give him that bit more of a boost that morning too. Such a stuffed shirt.

“Jared. Sorry to have to leave yesterday. Thanks for bringing my guitar back.” Jensen slid back into his seat. It was easier than shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

Jared didn’t take the hint. “Pete said you were about to head for lunch.”

“In a bit,” Jensen tried.

Jared still didn’t shift. Instead he settled into the seat opposite Jensen. “So come eat with me. I want to talk a bit more about the band.”

“I think I heard enough yesterday.” The words were out before Jensen could censor them. “I don’t mean that.”

“You do.” Jared’s voice was a little sad and all kinds of soft. “Don’t you think I’ve heard every accordion joke out there. ‘What’s the difference between an accordion player and a terrorist? Terrorists have sympathizers’ You’ve heard them all.”

Jensen grinned a little at the bad joke. “Sorry. It’s just that I was in a country band. More rock. Bit of folk. I didn’t expect…” Jensen wanted to crawl under the desk and hide. Jared looked hurt. They were starting to attract a little bit too much attention as well, not just from Pete who was pretending to type up something.

“Just. Come on. I don’t want to get into this here.” Jared stood and patted his pocket to check he had everything. Jensen bit out a sigh and grabbed his jacket. He locked his computer and followed Jared. The elevator ride down was six kinds of awkward.

 

Jensen sat opposite Jared but refused to look at him. Instead he poked at the rather limp salad in front of him and didn't say anything. Jared was less restrained.

"We want to do more with the band. Expand it. My dad wants to limit his involvement and my cousin wants to take his spot." Jared swallowed a hefty drink from his glass. "And I have all these ideas.” Jared waved his hands around enthusiastically.

Jensen took a bite of salad. When he was done chewing, he finally looked up at Jared. “I don’t get it, sorry. You play an accordion?”

Jared got a little sad at that. His smile lost its sparkle and he drew his shoulders down, tried to look smaller. “Don’t you think I’ve been wound up plenty of times. About accordions. I could – fuck, Jensen. I want to make this band something more than a back yard polka band.”

Jensen nodded. He knew all about musical ambitions. And all about how quickly they could be quashed.

“Why’d you learn the guitar?” Jared was still. His eyes were intent and Jensen got a glimpse at someone smart and competent and totally serious. It was miles away from the drunken debauched hungover doofus or the playful campy guy in his parents’ back yard. It was something that made Jensen pause and re-examine the way his stomach clenched suddenly. Even still, he took another bite of his lunch before answering.

“Chris. My friend. He had a spare one and he needed someone to practice with. I guess I thought it was cool. I pretty much thought everything Chris did was cool, at least when I was fifteen.” Jensen scrubbed his hand through the stubble at the back of his neck. He felt embarrassed admitting it. People usually had a deeper reason, a calling or something. He just picked up the guitar to be like his friend.

Jared didn’t laugh though. His eyes took on a far-away quality. Jensen was aware he might not even exist in that moment for Jared. “My great-grandad came through Ellis Island with two changes of clothes and an accordion. It was how he made his living – he didn’t speak English, not at least to start with – but his music…” Jared came back to the present. “I was three. I got a toy squeezebox and I was just like my grandpops, you know. Just like him.”

“Was he there yesterday…?” Jensen stopped when Jared shook his head.

“He died when I was ten or something. My gran remarried. But, it’s like – not just an instrument. It’s this part of me or something,” Jared said, passionately. Then he shook his head and the serious Jared that seemed to care about something was plastered over with the cutesy immature kid that Jensen had thought Jared was. “My dad took up the trumpet to piss off his dad, you know.”

Jensen laughed at that. He also knew all about pissing off parents. He glanced up at Jared, and was captured by Jared’s pleading expression.

It was time for him to head back to the office. Jensen got to his feet. He was about to leave when he looked back to Jared. He looked so despondent. Jensen wavered hard. Shit. Chris had better never find out about this.

“All right. I haven’t changed my mind about polka bands. Just so you know. But I’ll give it a go. I’m not promising anything.” Jensen tried for caution but it was swept aside by Jared’s sudden flare of enthusiastic appreciation. It was even more uncomfortable when Jared jumped to his feet and swept Jensen into an enormous hug, proclaiming his eternal gratitude. Jared was warm all over and felt firm and hard and everything Jensen liked. Jensen leaned back to break the hold.

“S’fine. Just- Text me with a actual rehearsal or something.” Jensen had to get out of the café. He needed away from Jared more than anything. He waved a vague goodbye and ducked out of the door.

Pete was waiting when he got back to the office, oddly gleeful. He took one look at Jensen’s slightly stunned face. “You’re going to join the band, right.” Pete obviously knew Jared all too well.

“Yeah,” Jensen drew out. “Guess I am.”

“And?” Pete was still leaning over the edge of the divider between their desks.

“And what?” Jensen pretended to be interested in checking his email.

“You and Jared. You’d be-“ Pete waved his hands in a way that either suggested rampant sexy times or car crashes. Jensen was pretty sure that entering into any type of romantic relationship with Jared would lead to both.

“First: you don’t date band members. Second: I just got out of a long-term thing and I’m not looking for anything serious. Third: Jared’s too young for me.” Jensen listed off the reasons, oddly surprised he had them on the tip of his tongue. His subconscious and him were obviously going to need to have a little chat.

“He’s 28. He’s not too young for you,” Pete protested. Then he made a face. “And I don’t know that Jared would know serious if it hit him in the face.”

“Not at all.” Jensen felt oddly driven to defend Jared. “He can be serious when it’s important.” He ignored Pete’s significant look and opened the file on his desk. Data entry. Boring. Mind-numbing. Just enough to take his mind off Jared and his crazy, evangelical accordion ways. Hopefully.

 

  
Jared had been pretty damn glad that he’d had Monday off work. He’d seen Jensen race out of his back yard when they’d started with the music and knew he had to talk to him again. After interrogating Pete and getting a little more of Jensen’s story out of him, Jared had a clear plan. He would just show up to their office and return Jensen’s guitar and persuade him.

It wasn’t that he had ulterior motives. Jensen was hot but he was also a guitarist and Jared needed a guitarist. He was fairly single minded about this. It was the same with everything he did, he supposed. Go out and party – Jared danced everyone off the floor. Learn the accordion – he had mastered button and piano and could manage a fair tune on a harmonica too. School? He’d maintained that 4.0, got into law school, made Dean’s List and all. Jared liked to succeed.

He guessed some things had to give. And it looked like it was his personal life that had.

The downtown offices Pete worked at weren’t too far from Gen’s store. Since he didn’t have to lug a guitar case about, Jared decided to drop in and say hello. The weather was fine and Jared strolled along.

Gen looked him up and down. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, but I thought we had an agreement, here.”

Jared was still thinking of the way Jensen had felt in the hug. “Hmm?”

“You were going to wear a suit every time you came here in order to make people think successful types shopped here. And for the eye candy.” Gen flipped her hands at him as she pulled a plate out from under the counter and placed an airy confection on it. “Anyway. Try this.”

“What is it?” Jared asked before shoving the whole thing into his mouth. Gen always made the best cakes for him. She said it was useless using him as a taster because he pretty much liked everything.

“Does it matter?” Gen folded her arms. “Raspberry, white chocolate cream, choux bun.” Jared gave her the thumbs up as he chewed. “So, tell me about Jensen.”

“He’s going to do it.” Jared smiled, knowing he probably looked dreadful with cream and filling over his teeth. Gen had seen worse.

“Date you?”

“Play in the band.” Jared shook his head. Pete had given him the significant eyebrows again when he’d shown up with the guitar. “You don’t date band mates. It’s like the rule.”

“Considering your band mates are your dad and your cousin, that’s not been an issue.” Gen shook her head. “He’s perfect for you: musical, single, your age and seven kinds of hot.”

Jared leaned over the counter. Gen had a point. Jensen would be an amazing guy for anyone. He had that look about him though, the look that said don’t touch. Jared didn’t know exactly why he was getting that vibe, but he was happy enough to go along with it for now. “He hates accordions.”

Gen slid a cupcake over to him. “That’s too bad. You should change his mind on that. Jared Padalecki not being able to argue someone into something they don’t want to do? That’ll be the day.”

Jared ate the cupcake thoughtfully. Gen had a point. He’d always been the one to talk the others into schemes and the one to talk them out of the trouble they were invariable in. He’d chosen to become a lawyer for crying out loud. He used his powers of persuasion every day. Or he would, once he’d done more than assist. Maybe he should invite Jensen over and persuade him of the power of the accordion…

 

Jared pulled open the door before Jensen had managed to make it up the drive this time. His truck, a battered old classic, stuck out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood of SUVs and little old people cars that Jared hated riding in. His legs just weren’t meant for anything small. He quite liked the idea of riding in Jensen’s truck. It would hold the band’s equipment too.

Jensen was wearing old battered jeans and a t-shirt for a band Jared hadn’t heard of. He could check them out on You Tube later, no doubt. Instead he gestured Jensen into the house. Jensen looked at the carpet and kicked off his sneakers. Polite to the very nth degree. Jared hurriedly shut the door to stop Harley escaping. The big mutt liked to get out and chase the neighborhood cats a little too frequently. Then the dogs came careening around the corner from the kitchen and demanded attention.

Jensen let out a soft laugh at their antics and Jared was glad to hear it. Jensen still bore tension in his shoulders but he seemed more comfortable. Jared presumed that was because he wasn’t wandering around doing the full on flirt. “Come on. I want to show you the basement.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows at that and followed him down the steps. Jared had planned it carefully, tided even. The room had always been where he’d practiced. His dad, Jeff and him had installed the sound proofing when they’d moved in here, staple-gunning thick heavy fleece to the wall and covering it with blankets. The door had padding on it too. Then they’d put in a sofa and a TV, because the basement was technically supposed to be a den too. The garage had held all the crap that his mother had tried to sneak down here over time, crap that was piling up in his old bedroom.

Instead the basement held musical instruments. An old piano his mother had inherited from an aunt that had taken them an entire afternoon to work down the stairs. His dad’s trumpets. His own accordions. And his great-grandfather’s, too fragile to play. Jensen rocked back on his heels as he took it all in. Jared let the door shut behind him softly.

“I wanted you to see this.” Jared strode over the cabinet beside the TV. An old stereo system, turntable on top, was hidden inside the cabinet. Underneath, neat boxes held CDs and cassettes and even vinyl. Jared sat down cross-legged in front of the music and gestured Jensen over. He watched out of the side of his eyes as Jensen slid to his knees. Jensen made it look graceful. Jared had a flash of imagining Jensen doing that in another context and he felt his stomach lurch. No time for that now. “I wanted to show you a little more about accordions and what they can do, since you need to know for the band.”

Jensen shuffled closer, looking at the boxes in front of Jared. He brought his hands out, hovering over a neatly organized collection of vinyl albums. Jared rolled his eyes. “You can touch.”

Jensen huffed out a soft chuckle before flicking through the music. Jared found the CD he was looking for – Irish music, rough and ready – and slid it in, turning the volume down so it wouldn’t impede any conversation. Jensen’s fingers were tapping along as he flicked through the old albums.

“It’s cool. It’s just not the type of thing I’d play,” Jensen admitted when the track spun to the end.

Jared laughed. “Hey. I just wanted to show you the range. I’ve got this amazing gypsy band. Romany. From, like Romania.” Jared shuffled around the CDs and slotted it in. “I could have made you a mix tape or something.”

“What are you? Even teenage girls don’t do that anymore. It’s all playlists on iTunes.” Jensen still held out his hand for the CD case as Jared found the track he wanted. “You gonna slide it into my locker all anonymous like.” Jensen’s upturned grin made the crinkles at the side of his eyes deepen.

“Fuck you,” Jared responded, glad he could laugh with Jensen. He’d been afraid they were too antagonistic or something. Instead it was becoming more comfortable. Jared swapped out the CD for yet another one. Bayan music, from Russia. Sure he couldn’t play one, but he liked the sound.

Jensen rubbed his hands on the front of his jeans. Jared found his eyes drawn to the movement before he guiltily jerked his eyes back to the stereo. “Hey – they do this Michael Jackson cover.”

Jensen laughed again, relaxing from his kneel into the floor, bringing his legs up to sprawl out. Again Jared felt that lurch in his stomach. He had to get his brain trained. Jensen was hot – burning hot – but he was going to be a band mate. That meant he was off limits. Jensen grabbed for the CD case again, laughing at some of the covers. He winced at the picture of the band on the cover. They were wearing sequins. Lots of sequins.

“You have to let me hear ‘Ghost Riders in the Sky’, man.” Jared complied, glad to have something to do. “I’m starting to get what you were saying though.”

“Yeah?”

“That accordion can play anything, right?” Jensen was grinning now. “C’mon. I was promised pizza to lure me here.”

Jared scrambled to his feet. “Yeah. I should order. I need to hit the hay pretty early.”

It was Jensen’s turn to look a little surprised. “Why?”

“Work. Got a 7am meeting with a client.” Jared knew he was frowning. This case was sort of kicking his ass.

“Oh.” Jensen was quiet for a moment. “What is it you do?”

Jared looked to see if he was joking. Apparently not. There was a little frown line between Jensen’s eyebrows. “I’m a lawyer. Surprised Pete didn’t tell you.”

“No, I didn’t know.” Jensen had taken a long moment to respond and Jared had the distinct feeling he was being reappraised. “I can head out now.”

“Nah. Pizza. And you got to check out these guys on You Tube. You have to see their show. It’s like accordion extreme…” Jared laughed. “One more song, then food.”

“Like punch and pie?” Jensen quirked an eyebrow up at him. Jared smiled at the South Park reference but ignored him to dig out one last CD.

“This is a little different. It’s _musette_ , from France. Paris.” Jared let the song start. He didn’t know why, but there was something hard, personal in this music. “They played it in the slums, in the nightclubs of Montmatre.”

Jensen looked up at him from the floor. Jared wasn’t sure what to do for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair, letting it fall softly around his face. Then he held out a hand as Edith Piaf’s plaintive tones filled the room. Jensen looked at it for a minute before he placed his hand in Jared’s and let himself be pulled up.

“They would dance to this, slow and close.” Jared pulled Jensen close, feeling the warmth of his body as he pulled him close and positioned Jensen into the right stance. “It was the sound of the ghetto, I guess. Of poverty and danger and trying to live a little dangerously.”

Jensen was still against him as Jensen clasped his raised hand and slid the other around his waist. Jensen hesitated before sliding his hand around to mirror Jared’s. Jared smiled slowly, lazily, as the song wound on. He moved, stepping through some simple familiar patterns, more intent on keeping Jensen close and warm and smelling spicy sweet.

Jensen went with him, some of the tension draining as Jared pulled him closer, tighter, feeling Jensen’s firm body against his. It was good. No. Better than that. It was like they fit together, moving slowly and carefully to the rather depressing tune. Jared didn’t want to risk any fancy moves as he shifted them back and forth, concentrating on the feel of Jensen in his arms. He wanted to tilt his head, make Jensen look at him and kiss him and possess him.

Instead the song came to an end. Jared broke the hold to switch off the CD and the entire music station before he led Jensen back up the stairs and into the living room. Jared caught Jensen watching him with a serious look on his face as he dialed the delivery place. “You still up for playing in the band.”

That shook Jensen out of whatever train of thought he was entertaining. He coughed a little and leaned forward. “Yeah. I’m still in.”

 

Jared noodled at the keys, drawing out a ransom set of notes. Jensen winced. The accordion was still not his favorite instrument. Jared caught the movement and scowled a little.

"So what are we actually going to play?” Jared said, looking around at the others. “We need a selection of stuff. For all kinda ages.”

Jensen shrugged. Eric looked a little blank too. Jared tapped his fingers again. “Maybe we should put together a list of songs we know.”

“I got a lot of country stuff,” Jensen said, after an uncomfortably long silence. “And a bit of rock. A few standards.”

Jared nodded enthusiastically. “The trouble is we don’t really have a singer. I guess a lot of music requires that.”

Jensen laughed. “What? Your magical squeezebox doesn’t sing too.” Jared kicked out his foot and Jensen grabbed at his shin.

Jared grabbed a sheet of paper. “I wonder if there’s anything we all know?” This was harder than he’d thought it would be.

“Maybe you could do some more research. Find a band who plays the kind of gigs we want.” Jensen looked at Jared scribbling down ideas. “We could…” Jared looked up to see sheer panic and hesitation on Jensen’s face.

“What were you going to say?” Jared asked. He was still a lot unsure about where he really stood with Jensen. Half the time, he was convinced that Jensen was merely humoring him by showing up.

Jensen dropped his arms into a loose caress of his guitar. “I kinda sometimes write my own stuff.”

“For real?” Jared couldn’t contain the exclamation. He’d never met anyone who actually did that. He’d tried but all he seemed to be able to write were variations on tunes he already knew. And rhyme things like bed and shed. “You do?”

Jensen ducked his head but he nodded. Jared kicked at his leg again. “You should let us hear.”

“I’m being stupid. Chris never thought they were that good.” Jensen loosely gripped the neck of his guitar. “Moving on.”

Jensen waved his hand as if to dismiss the topic but it played at the back of Jared’s mind as the others threw out song suggestions. He liked the idea of original stuff. He guessed he would have to persuade Jensen to let him hear it. And his mind decided to prompt some ways in which he could persuade Jensen, mainly involving his tongue and various sexual favors Jared dragged his mind out of the gutter and back into the discussion. Off limits.

They actually ended up with a couple of songs they all knew, _Deep in The Heart of Texas_ among them. Jared laughed a little as he swung into the familiar tune, more pleased at the way they all sounded together. Even Jensen had a smile playing around his lips. It flowed more after that as the other shouted out tunes to try.

The others drifted away - Eric to pick up his kids from his mother down the street and Matthew to get to work. Jensen stayed though. He kept noting down songs on the list, fingering them. Jared became more and more impressed as he worked. For one thing, Jensen's hands must be getting tired.

Jensen seemed to realize that it was getting darker as evening drew in. He jerked upright in surprise. "Is it late?"

"Nope," Jared said. He tapped his foot a little. "It's nice. I haven't done this is a while."

Jensen chuckled. "I used to do this, back home. We'd get together, get the beers and sit around and toss around songs."

Jared let his fingers trail over his keyboard one more time. He was getting tired, he knew, but didn't want to stop. Jensen was looser here, less uptight. He smiled more regularly, the lines at the side of his eyes deepening. Jared wanted that - he wanted Jensen to smile and laugh. To look at him with those intense green eyes like he was the only thing in the world. To watch him tip his head back as he laughed at a mistake or closed his eyes to just hear the music better.

Jared was aware Jensen was humming along with the tune he was idly picking out. "Guess that's another one I know," Jensen told him.

"Hmm?" Jared stopped playing.

"The song. My mom used to sing it." Jensen colored up then. "She used it as a lullaby for my sister. Said her mom had sung it to her."

Jared shook his head. "I wasn't playing anything." Jensen was watching him to see if Jared was mocking him again. The tenseness crept back into the set of his shoulders and Jared let out a sigh. He'd thought they were over this.

"Play me the song," he suggested. "Maybe I do know it. My brain is a little blitzed."

"Oh." Jensen ducked over his guitar for a moment. He adopted a different attitude. He wasn't strumming any more. Instead he arranged his fingers into a more classical configuration. "I haven't played it in a while. I guess it stopped being cool."

Jared felt a kick of anger in his guts. He'd never met this Chris guy but between forcing Jensen to just play music he liked and telling him he wasn't up to much as a songwriter... Maybe they'd have words when they met or something. "Tell you what. Play me it or play me one of your songs." Jared folded his arms on top of his accordion and rested his chin on it.

Jensen let out a shaky laugh. "That ain't happening in this lifetime." He thought for a moment longer and started picking out a simple tune, adding a strum when he seemed to have the faltering notes in some sort of order. "I'm going to have to sing. Just to warn you."

Jared shook his head. "I promise I won't laugh."

The promise was completely unnecessary. Jensen let the tune play through another time before starting to sing. "My love is like a red, red rose..." The old air suddenly gained new meaning as his rough low voice seemed to give the words a fresh perspective for Jared. Of course he knew the song - everybody should know the song - but the way Jensen sang it, simply, no frills. The way he let the guitar fill in the gaps. He even added in a soft humming section, words giving way to the simple melody and Jensen's low rumble.

Jared was entranced.

Jensen stumbled over a couple of the notes, mangling some of the lyrics - it wasn't a perfect performance. Jared didn't care. He felt like Jensen was singing to him, for him. The way their eyes met when Jensen sang out "and fare you well my bonnie lad" rather than "lass" made something burn in the pit of Jared's stomach. Jared came back to himself after that. He couldn't let Jensen affect him like this. He grabbed his bellows and counted himself in, adding a counterpoint to the tune.

 

  
They drifted into silence at the end and sat, unwilling to move, for a long moment. The spell was broken by clapping from the doorway. Jared's sister stood there, no sign of the cheeky bounce that seemed to be part of Jared's family make-up. She was solemn, serious. Jensen stilled the vibrating strings with a flat hand and smiled at her.

"Didn't mean to disturb you." He knew his voice was soft and hushed. He didn't want the sense of rightness, of something magical that came from a special moment to entirely escape.

She shook her head. "Mom wanted you to stay for dinner. Her words were 'Tell Jensen he's staying for meatloaf' so I guess you don't have any choice." Megan came across the threshold and she bent to place a soft kiss on Jared's head. "The music was nice. You guys going to play that at my wedding?"

Jared chuckled. "If you can afford the rates."

Jensen watched the byplay as Jared got up to put his accordion away. It was times like this that made him miss his own family, friends. His baby sister. They weren't as close as the Padaleckis but they were his, he supposed. He stuck his guitar back into its case. There was also the fact that all that awaited him in his apartment was a frozen supper and the microwave. "I ain't going to turn down meatloaf," he told them.

Jared levered him out of his seat, seemingly unaware of his own strength. "I wouldn't let you go anyway."

Jensen walked up out of the basement behind the still tussling pair. There was something to be said for the idea of Jared not letting go. Jensen watched the way his soft jeans clung to the curve of his ass, letting himself admire Jared's trim waist. You do not date guys in your band, he reminded himself. You don't want to date anyone. It was hard to remember when Jared turned around and smiled widely.

 

Over dinner, Jared's dad asked about the band. Jensen was only half listening when Jared casually tossed out that they'd found a vocalist too. "What? Who?"

Jared looked at him funny. "Well, you. Who else was singing?"

Jensen stared at Jared to check for any mocking before he shut his mouth with an audible snap. He thought to protest, to say that he wasn't good enough. He opened his mouth again only for Jared to lean across the table and stretch out one of his unfairly long arms and place a broad palm over his mouth.

"No arguing," Jared told him. Jensen couldn't resist doing what he used to do to Josh when he tried this, and used his tongue to lick a wide stripe up Jared's palm. Jared shook his head. "And that's not going to make me stop you saying something stupid."

Jared's mom laid her knife and fork down and huffed out a laugh. "Boys..."

Jared dropped his palm but raised his knife warningly when Jensen opened his mouth again. Jensen caught his eyes and nodded in acquiescence. Maybe he could do it after all.

 

If Jensen’s life was a movie, the next few months would have skipped past in a montage set to some upbeat music. Maybe _Eye of the Tiger_ , like in _Rocky_. It certainly felt as if he’d been in training by the time they came to play their first gig.

Jensen wondered, fairly often, why he’d agreed to join Jared’s band. They still argued over tunes like nothing else, including one memorable time when Matthew had dumped a bottle of water over them as they stood toe to toe, yelling into each other’s face. Jared had merely flipped his wet hair off his face and posed like he was in a wet t-shirt contest. Jensen couldn’t help laughing. Jared pouted and turned and threw the Blue Steel over his shoulder as he headed back into the house for a towel. He even brought out a towel and another shirt for Jensen. The shirt did say “I heart accordions” but Jared insisted it was the only one he had clean.

Work was oddly better. Maybe it was the new office? No one here knew Andrew and that whole mess and they were interested in Jensen for Jensen’s sake. He did resist the bowling league invitation. He wasn’t that old yet. There was this inter-company corporate Olympics thing going on that seemed to get everyone competitive. And every so often Jensen had to stop and wonder why no one seemed to be getting competitive about promotions and sucking up to the boss.

A different city, a different atmosphere and a hell of a different attitude. Jensen liked it. And he was even more surprised that he liked it.

The band’s official debut was at one of Jared’s back yard pool parties. Well, parties was overstating it. Get togethers. Jensen felt nervous, despite the fact he knew each and every person here. They’d be judging him, seeing if he was good enough. Jared didn’t have any such worry. He was grinning hugely as he got them all organized, bouncing on a sugar high. Jensen sucked down some more beer and checked the tuning on his guitar one more time.

Jared led off with one of the old Irish tunes they’d learned. Jensen had to concentrate to remember the intricate fingering. He could feel the silent attention of the group, broken only by the buzz of a neighbor’s lawnmower and the children down the street. Sweat started to prickle at the back of his neck. He couldn’t look out at anyone else, focusing on his fingers instead.

The sudden cheering, whooping applause made his stomach settle. He looked up, but not at the people around them, but at Jared. Jared’s smile was less of a wild grin and more proud, happy. Weirdly serious. He looked over at Jensen and the smile dropped into something else. A couple of moments passed before Jensen got enough courage up to look up. Jared’s mom was grinning at him, hands clasped.

“More!” came the shout and Jensen swung his guitar into place again. As he bent over it to start their version of Toxic, he wondered if it was a little too gay. The laughs that greeted it were enough to reassure him that their friends got the deliberate irony. They even sung along on the chorus.

 

Jensen was packing away his guitar when Jared’s father brought over another beer. Jensen should turn it down but he knew he’d be at their house long into the evening. He might even have a swim. Gerry sat down on Jared’s vacated stool.

Jensen let him sit in silence for a while. He still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. Jared got all his exuberance from his mom and Gerry just faded into the background. Sadie came past to nose at them for attention and Jensen was able to distract himself by rubbing his hands through her fur.

“You’re good for him,” Gerry said, softly, eyes fixed on Jared. “I wasn’t sure about this band thing, but he’s happier, settled.”

Jensen wasn’t quite sure what to say. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, “That’s all Jared. He’s great.”

Gerry made a disbelieving noise as he drank from the bottle in his hand. “He’s changed. Doesn’t see it yet.”

Jensen gave his attention to Sadie’s ears, tugging them gently like she loved. He didn’t know how to respond. Then he realized he didn’t have to.

“Nice talking with you, Jensen,” Gerry said, eyes twinkling. “Not enough people around here are quiet enough to let me talk.” There was no sarcasm, just gentle humor in his voice. “You should speak up when you want to be heard though.”

Gerry patted him on the shoulder and Sadie followed him off as he took over the grill again. Jensen tucked away his guitar and went to join him. He’d think more about it later.

 

  
Jared rubbed his hand over his face as he dropped his briefcase by the door. A head poked itself out of the living room and made him jump. It was Jensen. Jared could hear the sound of the TV now, some football game by the sounds of it. The dogs wormed past Jensen and came to demand attention. They sensed his exhaustion and soon returned to the living room.

“Hey,” Jensen said, voice soft. Jared had a moment of disassociation. It was weirdly domestic, Jensen being here. He liked it. It was something he guessed went with the whole relationship thing.

“Hey. I didn’t forget a practice or something?” Jared was pretty sure he hadn’t organized anything. The fact he had a meeting scheduled to start at three was always a hint to not have a practice that night. Those meetings often ran over into dinner and drinks, even when Jared was desperate to get away. This meeting had just run over. He had drank so much coffee he felt like his gullet might disintegrate.

“Your mom called me to dog-sit. I am apparently the only person she knows without a life.” Jensen scrubbed his hand at the back of his neck, hesitated, then spoke again, “You look like shit.”

Jared looked down at himself. His suit pants were wrinkled, his tie hung loose around his neck and his shirt had a coffee stain on it. He did look crap. He looked up at Jensen and nodded.

“No! Not like that. The suit is…” Jensen licked his lips, moistening them nervously. “You’re just gray. C’mon. Coffee?”

“No more coffee,” Jared ground out. He got up enough energy to kick off his shoes and bent to grab them. He had to put out a hand to steady himself against the wall.

“Yeah. Bed?” Jensen came to hover in front of him. “Or you need food? Your mom said there was leftover chicken.”

Jared thought about it. Making a decision was hard. His brain kicked into gear. “Food. Then bed. I’m going to get changed.”

“And I will make your sandwich like the good wife I am,” Jensen mock-grumbled.

Jared stumbled over to fling his arm around Jensen. He rested his head against Jensen’s temple and ignored his squirming to get away. “And how was your day, sweetie? Did the kids behave?”

Jensen succeeded in pushing Jared away. He didn’t look annoyed though. He laughed and then he looked a little sad. “Go shower. You stink.”

Jared thought about taunting Jensen about being unable to deal with the smell of his manliness, but reckoned it was probably a fair comment. He felt sweaty. The AC in the conference room had stuttered to a noisy halt at five and the room had gotten hotter and hotter. The subject material hadn’t exactly been temper cooling either. Jared turned and headed up the stairs that led through to his room. He turned the shower as hot as he could.

 

The TV was still on when he came downstairs, showing a rerun of some CSI. A beer was resting beside a plate on the coffee table and Jensen was flicking through a book on the sofa. He flung the book down when Jared shuffled in. Jensen looked him up and down, eyes wide before he grinned. “Bit different from the suit.”

Jared had decided he wasn’t going to be doing much other than curling up the minute he’d wolfed down the sandwich and he hadn’t seen much point in dressing up for Jensen. He’d flung on his old comfortable sleep pants, flannel ones, and a worn t-shirt. Technically the t-shirt was him being polite - he usually slept just in the pants – but Jensen wouldn’t like it if he wandered around topless. “I’m comfortable.”

Jensen switched his attention back to the TV while Jared settled on the other end of the sofa. Jensen’ smile faded a little and the sadness came back. Jared finished one half of the sandwich and kicked out his foot. “What’s up?”

Jensen shrugged. Jared prodded him again with his foot. Jensen shoved at it irritably. “Just brings back memories.”

“Of what?” Jared kept a close eye on Jensen as he started on the other half of the sandwich. Jensen sipped at his soda for a moment. Jared wasn’t sure he was going to answer until he spoke, softly.

“Andrew. He used to look like that after a long day at the office. He was senior to me, a manager. He used to have to stay longer.” Jensen squirmed into his seat. “He looked better after a while, said he was getting used to the job. Turned out he’d been out with people.”

Jared wasn’t sure what to say to that. How could anyone cheat on Jensen? He was amazingly gorgeous and sweet and, okay, prejudiced against the accordion. But he was talented. He showed up to look after Jared’s dogs. And he made sandwiches. Jared didn’t get it. “You deserve better,” was what Jared ended up with.

Jensen looked over at him sceptically. “Maybe. But I’m not having any luck in finding better. You?”

Jared shook his head. Then again, he hadn’t really been trying too hard. “Working on the band thing first.”

Jensen grinned at that. “Extra hard work when you play the accordion, right?”

Jared kicked out at him again. He was glad to have made Jensen smile again.

 

Work let up for just enough time to let Jared finally organize their first paying gig as a band. One of his dad’s old co-worker's daughters was having a birthday party and she wanted some live music. Jared was nervous. This was his idea after all.

The woman showed up at his house around eight, during one of their regular practices Jared wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before opening the door to her and shaking her hands. She looked a little skeptical as they climbed down to the basement. Jensen looked sick.

It got better after that. The woman sat down and watched as they ran through a couple of tunes. Jared talked about the different types of songs and asked if there was anything they should avoid. He hmmed at the right bits and answered all her questions.

The woman hesitated before saying she’d like to hire them. Jared tamped down on his joy long enough to see her out of the house, then he pounded back down to the basement. Jensen and the others were sitting in stunned silence.

Jared let out a whoop. Jensen started and then got to his feet. “Did we just do that?”

“Yeah…” Matthew breathed out. “We’re a real band.”

Eric let his sticks drop onto his drums. “Money. And everything.”

“Hell yeah!” Jared whooped again. He grabbed Jensen into a hug and squeezed. “All because of you man.”

Jensen looked really uncomfortable as he pulled back. “Not just me.” The other guys made disagreeing noise. “Team effort.”

Jared grabbed him into another hug again. He liked hugging Jensen. Then he realized something awful. “Oh no.”

“Huh?” Jensen asked from around about his collarbone.

“We’re going to need clothes,” Jared groaned. Jensen slapped at his chest and pulled away. Jared was unhappy to let him go.

 

  


Jensen was still high off the success of their first paying gig when he rolled into the bar's parking lot. He was also happy as hell to be going out to a grown up place for a change. Maybe he'd get to know (and like) this city after all. His intention was just to have a couple and head back home for an early night and just enjoy being out.

The enjoyment factor crashed when he walked in and saw Jared twined around another equally tall guy. Something ugly unfurled in Jensen. He looked at the floor and thought about walking out. It was too late, of course, as Pete must have been watching for him and popped up beside him with a beer already in his hand. Jensen attempted to tamp down on the blackness threatening to swallow him whole.

"This is Tom. He and Jared have been dating a week. He's the best thing since sliced bread." Pete's tone revealed his disbelief. "And I'm not saying anything else about it."

Jensen took a drink from the bottle and nodded, once, decisively. Then he followed Pete over to the table in the corner. He was kinda pleased when Jared broke out of the kiss and greeted him happily. Jared was obviously a little drunk too, pupils blown and movements loose. Jensen liked drunk Jared, normally, because drunk Jared was a touchy-feely type of guy who liked to hug. Of course, Tom was the one that Jared was choosing to be all touchy feely with right now. Tom's glare at Jensen made him feel a little happier though.

Jensen tried his best to ignore Jared and Tom as much as he could but he knew he was watching every move out of the corner of his eye. He chatted to Pete's fiancée, Lauren, for a while, happy to discuss songs for her wedding. She had some very definite ideas, which Jensen seemed to remember his brother's wife also having. He let her describe the whole room set up and the color scheme and everything in order to have some kind of distraction.

It didn't help when he was leaning up against the bar waiting for his round and Jared landed up next to him, warm and sweet smelling. "Hey! What do you think of Tom?" Jared crowded close, threw his arm over Jensen's shoulder. Jensen tried not to lean into Jared at all.

"He's paying you lots of attention. I haven't really talked to him," Jensen demurred.

"He's nice." Jared leaned over and his breath was warm against Jensen's ear as he whispered over the noise of the bar. "And he has an enormous cock."

"Thanks for that man," Jensen said, He scrunched up his face and tried desperately not to imagine Jared's generous mouth stretched around Tom's dick. Then he got himself under control again. "I didn't really think you dated much."

Jared looked over at Tom who was staring daggers at Jensen by now. Jensen actually felt a stab of sympathy for him. He wouldn't really like it if Jared was cuddling up to someone he didn't know. Not if Jared was his boyfriend. Which he wasn't and would never be. Because they were in a band together.

Jared's voice softened. "Yeah. I wasn't - I never have. It just seemed like the right time. I'm getting too old for the whole scene thing. And then there was Tom." The surprise at that in Jared's voice made Jensen suddenly not hate Tom as much. "I don't know. He just seems different from the other losers I went out with." Jared smiled, a small soft smile that made Jensen want to ensure that Jared never stopped smiling like that.

"That's good, man." The bartender came back with his change and Jensen was finally able to tear his eyes away from Jared's face. "C'mon. Lots to celebrate."

"We gonna get drunk and get crunk with Britney?" Jared said, with a perfectly straight face.

Jensen couldn't help but laugh. He laughed so much he had to put his hands on his knees to try and support himself.

Jared muttered at him. "It wasn't that funny." That just made Jensen laugh harder. He felt the tension he'd felt since he came into the bar and saw Jared with Tom dissipate and it made him feel lighter.

He grabbed the drinks and headed back to the table.

 

It was only after Jared and Tom headed out of the door and back to Tom's place, judging by the way Tom pinned Jared to his SUV in full view of the bar's big picture window and kissed the living daylights out of him that Jensen wondered why he hadn't like Tom. The guy was attractive, sure. He and Jared made a really gorgeous couple, all long legs and high cheekbones. And when Jensen had talked to him, he seemed okay. He was a bit dull and didn't get Jared's jokes but maybe that would come with experience. Jensen was trying to work it out when Pete sat down beside him again. The seat on the other side was taken by Pete's fiancée again.

"You have to stop them, Jensen," Pete said. He looked serious. Jensen looked at both of them in confusion.

"Stop what? Who?"

"You have to get the boring man away from Jared." Lauren's tone was crisp and business-like. "He's not the sharpest tool in the box."

"Jared?" Jensen was beyond puzzlement and well into bemused territory. He wondered what conversation Pete and Lauren thought they were having with him.

"You." Lauren handed him and beer and shared a glance with Pete. "You're in love with Jared."

"No I'm not." The denial was automatic, swift. Jensen didn't need to think to let it slip out.

Pete glanced around the bar. "So you don't watch him all the time?"

"Or always know where he is in a room?" Lauren slid her point in without waiting.

"And you don't spend your time at work talking about Jared-this and Jared-that. You spend more time with the guy than I do." Pete didn't sound annoyed though.

"We're friends. I'm happy he's happy. Even with someone else." Jensen thought that the pair of them were utterly delusional.

Pete snorted out a laugh. "Hate to tell you. If looks could kill, Tom would have been dead the moment you walked in the door."

Jensen opened his mouth to protest again and then shut it. He had been so busy not falling for Jared, not finding him attractive and available that maybe he had developed some feelings. Friendship feelings, surely.

Jensen let his head fall to the sticky table. He let his forehead cool against the surface as Lauren patted his back. "There you go."

"I'm in love with Jared and I didn't know." Jensen spoke into the wood of the table, glad he didn't have to look at any one while he bit out the obvious conclusion. "I'm like a bad teen comedy."

"I wouldn't say a bad one..." Pete began. Jensen turned his head to glare at him. "So. Shots?" Jensen rolled his head back so he faced the table again. He nodded though. Shots were all that were going to make this evening at all bearable.

 

  
Jared wasn't quite sure what to do with Jensen's sudden standoffishness. He turned up to rehearsal sure enough, and played with a quiet focused intensity that was different from either his previous distrust and tension or the more easy rhythm they'd fallen into. It had got to the point when Jared had almost been able to predict what Jensen was going to do. Jensen also never stayed for dinner any more, making excuses about work or things he had to do. Jared checked with Pete but there was nothing happening at work that would explain Jensen's distraction.

Jared let out a sigh as Jensen packed up at the end of an oddly dissatisfying practice session. They were getting good. The few gigs they'd booked were leading to others and Jared was in the process of putting together the usual posters and Facebook page and the like. It was hard to believe they'd be ready when everything seemed to go wrong and nothing sounded right.

"You all right, man?" Jensen asked, finally meeting Jared's eyes for the first time that evening. He still had little worry lines in his forehead and was squinting a little. Jensen rubbed at his temples like he had a headache.

"I'm fine. What about you? How's life? I feel like I hardly get to see you." Jared tried not to sound reproachful but knew he probably didn't succeed.

"Just. I'm okay. Tired." Jensen's eyes slid back to the case with his guitar and he picked it up to leave. "See you."

"Yeah. Saturday night." Jared was looking forward to Pete's bachelor party. It made up for the hours listening to Lauren explain bridesmaid colors and Pete complain about Lauren explaining bridesmaid colors

Jensen paused in the doorway and Jared just knew what he was going to say. He was going to come up with some excuse to not show. Some pathetic excuse, no doubt. Jared decided to head that off. "Pete said you had to be there."

Jensen nodded. "See you Saturday." He didn't look back at Jared though. Eric and Matthew were exchanging glances when Jared turned back around. They shrugged their shoulders when Jared raised a questioning hand. Guess they didn't know what was up with Jensen either.

 

The bachelor party wasn't anything wildly unexpected. A limo to take the guys from a restaurant more known for its floorshow and waitress outfits than for the food. On to a couple of bars before a club full of strippers. Jared believed in the classics. He didn't want to play games or have people wear silly hats. What he wanted was for Pete to get good and drunk, see more naked boobs than he ever had in one place and send him off into matrimony in good style. It was cool that so many of the guys coming out were old friends too, with the odd work colleague and Lauren's two brothers thrown in for good measure.

Jared had been put out when Tom told him he wasn't coming. It wasn't that he expected it. They'd been seeing each other less frequently anyway. Tom showed up, they fucked, they went their separate ways. No more dinners or movies or even fucking art galleries. Jared had not really appreciated them. He knew that if he'd gone with Jensen, they'd have seen ridiculous action flicks or mocked the pretentious "installations". It would have been fun rather than serious. And Jared needed fun too.

Maybe it was time to officially call it off. Jared was sad, though. He'd hoped Tom might turn out to be Prince Charming after all. Instead he was rather boring. It made him wonder if maybe he just wasn't meant for monogamy.

 

The limo was the best idea, packed full of loud guys, all out to enjoy a good time. Jared had gone for a crisp white shirt that wasn't quite so neat by the time they made it to the restaurant. He had drunk a good quantity of the champagne they'd cracked open and passed around the back of the car. He was also feeling a little fizzy like the bubbles. Excitement under his skin only counted for half of it. There was a restlessness there too. He hadn't been out for what felt like months. Maybe he could persuade the guys to go to a club after the strip bar.

Jensen ended up sitting next to him at one end of the table. Jared was glad. He knew Jensen wasn't too keen on loud large groups of people he didn't know.

"Where's Tom?" Jensen asked, after taking a long fortifying drink of the beer in his hand. One of the waitresses was leaning really far over Pete and Jared was wondering how she didn't fall out of her corset top. Maybe she used tape. He swung his attention back to Jensen and leaned close, putting a hand on his thigh. Jensen had nice thighs - not too muscular but lean. They made his slight bow legs cute. Jared let his finger trace the seam of Jensen's jeans. The material was worn and it was obvious they were a favorite pair. Matched with the green shirt that Jensen had chosen, he looked comfortable and casual and smart and just right, like always.

The question Jensen had asked sunk in. "Couldn't come. Won't be coming, actually, again. We broke up." It was almost the truth. Jared's appetizer materialized in front of him - ribs - and he whooped in enjoyment.

Jensen took a long time to pick up his own knife and fork and dig in.

 

The bars were loud and full of women happy to apparently show Pete a good time. Jared stopped drinking and let the buzz from earlier carry him as he gently stopped anyone from getting too enthusiastic. Lauren was his friend too. Pete was rapidly spiraling towards oblivion by the time the limo dropped them at the strip bar. The bouncers let him in because Jared had got them on the guest list and not for any other reason. Pete roused enough to take the handful of singles Jared handed him and start to distribute them quite freely to the girls that materialized to bump and grind around him.

Jared smiled. His friend was getting married. He was the king of the bachelor party and everyone was having a good time. He should be feeling great. It turned out that the strip bar had a dance floor upstairs, totally separate from the hordes of slavering men. Jensen was watching the play of lights on the floor with a bored expression and Jared made a sudden decision. He came up behind Pete.

"Me and Jensen are going to check out the club upstairs. See you in a bit. I'm deputizing Jeff as best man until I get back." Jared's brother raised his hand for a fist bump.

 

Jensen was definitely working towards the smashed end of the spectrum. He grouched a little but followed Jared closely up the stairs. Jared could feel his halting breath on the back of his neck.

“I don’t dance,” Jensen muttered as Jared took in the crowded dance floor. He could already feel the bass beat along his spine.

“For me?” Jared said, deliberately making his eyes wide. Jensen muttered something under his breath and headed for the floor. The DJ spun another track into place and Jared found himself suddenly in the middle of the shifting crowd, like he was in the middle of an ocean. He felt himself lifted up and closer to Jensen, fitting himself along Jensen’s back. He undulated.

Jensen went stiff for a moment, then the alcohol and the music and the way that they were being buffeted by the crowd made him loosen. Jensen began to move to the beat, bass nearly drowning out any type of attempt at a tune. It was the very opposite of the type of music he normally liked but he didn’t care. Jared flung his arms up and moved.

 

Jensen seemed to lose the rest of the tension as Jared and he danced. He turned around to face Jared, which was probably only polite, and moved closer, arms loose by his side. Occasionally his arms would move forward as if to grab Jared’s hips and move him closer but Jensen resisted. Eventually Jared had to finally give in to the pressure of his bladder and made an abortive gesture to show he was heading to the restrooms. Jensen laughed at him and ducked his head closer to shout “Get us a drink too” before he started dancing again.

Jared made his bathroom visit quick, regretting that he’d chosen to wear white. The shirt was nearly translucent with sweat by now. The bar took longer, but he took advantage of his long arms to attract the bartender and order two beers. He was probably good for another one drink at least. Finally he headed back to the dance floor.

Jensen had attracted fans. He was now sandwiched between a twinky guy and who Jared presumed to be his older boyfriend. Jensen looked a little tense again but he was still moving, slower now. Jared caught his eye as he came close. He wasn’t going to cockblock. But he equally didn’t want to see Jensen taken advantage of. Jensen reached out a hand and Jared took it as an appeal for help. He came close, seized Jensen’s hand and pulled him close, tucking him against his chest. “Sorry,” he mouthed to the other guys, not feeling sorry at all. Jensen was warm and pliable against him. He smelled of sweat and possibly glitter and a spicy cologne that made Jared want to run his lips over the slight stubble on his jaw.

Jared guided Jensen around to face him, holding him close with the hand he had the necks of the beer bottles in. The other hand he used to cup Jensen’s cheek. Jared was also aware that his heart was beating so loudly he was astonished no one could hear it over the music. He brought his mouth down in a gentle caress and was astonished when Jensen wrapped one hand tight in his hair and held him close. Jensen’s kiss was anything but gentle. It was forceful, full on and fierce. Jared liked it. He liked guys making decisions and pushing him and he sure as hell liked Jensen doing it.

He liked Jensen.

So maybe he’d always liked Jensen but there was something about him, hot, drunk and loose from the dancing that made Jared want to roll over, beg and suck his cock down. Jared moved so he was straddling one of Jensen’s legs, hard, firm and just begging for him to ride it. The kiss deepened, became dirtier and every move of Jensen’s wet, plush lips, the way the tip of his tongue brushed Jared’s, seemed wired to Jared’s rapidly responding cock.

The whole thing was spoiled when the back of his shirt was grabbed and Jared found himself being torn away from Jensen to face an angry, suddenly larger Tom.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, Jared?” Tom spat in his face.

Jensen suddenly looked panicked. He grabbed the bottles of beer from Jared and bolted one. Jared watched his throat work before Tom pulled at him again and turned him to face him. “I came out to find you, to make up for having to work. And you’re cheating on me?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jared tried to think about how to explain everything. “We were going to break up.”

There was a soft noise from behind Jared. He spun to see Jensen looking at him with daggers in his eyes. Then Jensen was leaving him, pushing his way through the dancers to the exit.

Tom wasn’t happy to see Jared’s attention elsewhere. “Whatever you may think, Jared, we hadn’t talked about it.” Then all the fight seemed to go out of him. “Just, have a nice life. Don’t try to talk to me for a bit.”

Jared nodded. “Thanks. You should say hi to Pete. He’s downstairs.”

“And you should go apologize to Jensen.” Tom took the other beer from Jared’s grip, saluted him loosely with the neck and headed back towards the stairs down to the strip bar. Jared followed Jensen through the crowd, glad to see he hadn’t quite made it to the exit yet.

“Jensen!” he yelled, as they both made it into the quieter hallway. Jensen ignored him and kept moving, slightly unsteady on his feet. Jared made good use of his longer legs and caught up with him just before he was able to flag down a cab. “Why’d you run? I can explain.”

“You told me you had broken up with him.” Jensen’s voice sounded hollow. He turned to wave into the street again. The group of smokers from the club watched them with interest.

“We were going to. We have.” Jared tried to grab at Jensen’s arm to stop him leaving. It was futile. A taxi pulled to the sidewalk and Jensen skilfully disentangled himself from Jared’s grip. Jared tried harder to hold him.

“You are a dick, Jared Padalecki.” Jensen’s eyes flashed in anger.

“I’m sorry.” Even Jared knew he was pathetic.

Jensen finally succeeded in wrenching his arm free and opened the rear door of the cab. “Just – to think I thought I was in love with you.” He slammed the door and the taxi took off leaving Jared standing by the side of the road watching it go.

What did Jensen mean he thought he was in love with him?

 

  
Jensen was really hungover. More hungover than he thought he’d ever been. Whilst he may have been more drunk before, his constitution was also more resilient when he was younger. Now he felt old and dried out and unexpectedly sad. He stumbled through his morning routine – or well, as much of it as he could manage when he was interrupted by an urge to vomit his spleen into the toilet. Then he sat on the sofa and wrapped a blanket around himself and stared at the TV. It wasn’t on. It just seemed like a natural place to look.

Jensen was woken from a light doze by the buzz of the doorbell. It went through his head like a drill through Styrofoam and he winced as he buzzed whoever it was in. Anything to make the noise stop. The opened door let some cool air in and Jensen leaned into it gratefully. Of course, the herd of elephants pounding up the stairs didn’t help him.

Jared blurred into view and Jensen raised a shoulder and left the door open to go start the coffee. He needed coffee.

It was while he was using the counter to support his upright stance that the memory of what had happened last night returned. Jensen let himself droop to the kitchen floor and knelt there, letting the cool tiles sooth his head. It was nice down here. He heard the door to the apartment close and the swoosh-click of Jared’s flip flops come closer. Jared hesitated by his head.

“If you’re here to apologize, just do it and leave me to die.” Jensen muttered into the floor. He heard some water running and then Jared was sitting down beside him. He manhandled Jensen into a leaning position and handed him two white pills. Jensen would have objected to the movement if he’d been more able to. Instead he hoped the pills were cyanide. He obediently drank the water Jared had poured him and swallowed the pills. Then he had a moment of ordering his stomach to stay put.

“I’m sorry,” Jared said, his voice low and rumbling. “I’m so sorry.”

Jensen leaned his head back against the kitchen cupboard and let out a sigh. “I hate cheaters.”

“I’m-“ Jared started. Jensen flailed out a hand and connect successfully with Jared’s thigh. He shut up.

“My ex. Andrew. Turns out that he believed in “open” relationships. He just didn’t bother telling me.” Jensen rolled his head so he could look at Jared. He did look contrite. In fact, he looked completely miserable. Good. “I came home early from work, to surprise him. I loved him so much. He was the one, you know, or so I thought. I came home and he was stretched out on our bed, very much naked, with his ex-college boyfriend. The one he’d recently got back in touch with.”

“That’s… Jensen. Fucking awful.” Jared’s hands were curling into fists.

“Yeah. Turns out that punching them both didn’t make me feel any better either. I couldn’t stay. I moved onto Chris’ couch and sent them to get my stuff. Got my half of the house bought out. Did everything through lawyers. I haven’t seen him since then. But I just have to close my eyes and three years of my life were fucking destroyed, you know.” Jensen could feel tears pricking at his eyes and rolled his head away. “I hate cheaters. And I was ready to just be on my own, for a while.”

Jared didn’t try to say anything. The coffee maker burbled in the background and Jensen listened to it go. He wasn’t sure how long they sat in silence. He was starting to drift again when Jared spoke again.

“Did you mean it? The whole might be in love thing?” Jared’s voice was so subdued, so unlike his usual intense exuberance, that Jensen had to look at him again. Jared was fiddling with his sunglasses, not looking at Jensen at all.

Jensen didn’t answer. Instead he heaved himself to his feet and grabbed two mugs off the draining rack. He poured his own coffee and grabbed the milk and sugar out for Jared. He didn’t even take sugar. He left them on the counter and took his own coffee through to his nest on the sofa. He was getting cold now.

Jared followed with a mug in his hands a couple of minutes later. He didn’t take a seat though. He wandered around looking at the pictures Jensen had hung, the pile of frames he hadn’t got round to yet. Jensen thought carefully about how to respond.

“I was drunk.” That was all he came up with.

Jared froze. Then he turned around and looked at Jensen. “I should have left it. Should have waited until you were more recovered.” He was sad. “I guess I was so busy looking everywhere else that I forget to see what was under my nose.”

“Huh?” Jensen swore there was cotton wool wrapped around his head. He couldn’t make any sense out of what Jared was saying.

“Pete called me all kinds of idiot. In front of my brother and the strippers and everything.” Jared finally slumped into a seat. “Then Gen called me up and berated me too.”

“Berated. Big word.” Jensen took some more caffeine into his body. Apparently he was now craving it. And food. He wanted something greasy and disgusting. Or pancakes. He’d have to shower more before going out for them.

“Turns out that they think I’m in love with you too.” Jared finally rambled to a halt. Jensen reviewed the conversation in his head.

“Well. Just great.” Jensen leaned into his blankets. He numbly watched Jared squirm into an even more abject position of misery. Part of him wanted to go across and make Jared feel better, anything, rather than to see him so down. But Jensen was too tired out himself. Jared had lied to him, proved himself a cheater and fucking humiliated him in front of everyone he knew. “Are you?”

Jared leaned his head back over the chair. “Fucked if I know. How do you know if you’re in love?”

“That, I guess, is the question.” Jensen thought back over all he’d gone through with Andrew, the way Jared made him feel burning, epic amounts of rage and at the same time made him want to lick every inch of his body. Made him never want to have Jared away from him. Made him think about how he wished Jared was watching this movie with him, the way he’d wonder if Jared would like this brand of cereal in the store. The way his brain seemed to circle around Jared, Jared, Jared.

He couldn’t explain it.

“I’m going to shower. You’re buying me pancakes. And we’re going to forget this incident and pretend it never happened.” Jensen stumbled over his blankets as he got up. “I think that’s the way to move on.”

“What if I do, though?” Jared asked, desperate for some answer, for some resolution. “Remember.”

“Well, don’t. Easiest solution all around.” Jensen rubbed his hand over his face. He was still too hungover for this. He shoved the blankets into a ball on the sofa and grabbed his sadly empty mug to take back to the kitchen. He avoided looking at Jared.

There was a message flashing on his machine he hadn’t noticed from the night before. He pressed the button and leaned against the doorway to hear it. Chris’ familiar tones came through after the too loud beep.

“Call me! That guy in Nashville finally got back to us. They want the band there for a demo session. They want to give us a contract. And they want our songs! Where the fuck are you? Answer the phone. We’re going to be…” The call descended into loud whoops and cheers before cutting off. Jensen stared at the phone for a long moment before going to stick his mug into the sink.

Jared was ready to leave when he came back out. “I’ll leave you to it. You’ve got things to do. Calls to make.”

Jensen didn’t try to stop him.

 

Chris was still wild with happiness when Jensen called back. He was so full of joy that Jensen felt bad for trying to get some actual details out of him. Like the name of the guy and the dates he wanted them to come out to Nashville.

"I'll need to try and get time off work. And see it doesn't clash with any of the band commitments here, you know." Chris was always telling Jensen he was the sensible one. Jensen grabbed a pen to note down the details.

"Why? You should just quit. We're going to Nashville." Chris let out a wild whoop again. Jensen felt his headache start up again.

"I need to pay rent, in case you'd forgotten." Jensen knew he was being a little bitchy. It wasn't Chris' fault that his trust fund covered his living expenses. Chris burned it to the limit every month. But it gave him time to practice and write tunes and network and everything, Jensen supposed. "Look. Just email me the details. I had a shitty night last night."

"What - did Jared finally make a move and then not put out?" Chris' jubilation was really starting to get on Jensen's last nerve.

"I don't want to talk about it. Email me and I'll speak to you later." Jensen hung up and looked longingly at the pile of blankets in the corner of the sofa. Then he hung the phone back on the wall and headed to the shower. He needed more than coffee in his stomach and there wasn't much food in the apartment.

 

  
Gen wasn't all that helpful for all her sympathy. "You just know if you're in love. I never really thought about it like you do."

Jared rolled over. He'd spent the rest of the day cleaning out his room. Then he'd moved onto the garage. He'd toted boxes and thrown out years’ worth of clutter. He's spent time flicking through old photograph albums before packaging them up to go into the attic. It seemed pointless for him to keep all those photos of him and his friends out partying. Every weekend he had a different guy on his arm. The only constants were Gen, Pete and Chad.

"I love you, just not in a want to have you way," Jared tried pointing out. Gen flapped her arm at him. "I don't think of Jensen like that."

"I know this is going to lead to TMI time, but do you want to have him?" Gen screwed up her nose when she asked. "Much as I'm into two guys being hot together, because, well, fag hag... It's different when it's your best friend."

"That's not a problem. I wanted to do... all those things your mind is thinking of, right? Since the first time I saw him." Jared sat up against the headboard. He was pretty damn miserable. "Jensen's kinda been my go to for "me" time since I saw him. Even with Tom and all."

Gen slapped at his shoulder. "So the kiss? That you can give me details of."

"It was... It just hit me that I should, right. He was wearing this shirt and when I saw those other guys dancing with him, I just thought he should only be dancing with me." Jared thought back to the way it had felt to have Jensen pressed against him, open mouthed and warm and smelling so good. Every sense had been focused on Jensen. Even when they were playing in the band, it sometimes seemed like it was only the two of them, throwing tunes back and forth, making Jensen sing until he was hoarse. They'd keep going long after everyone else had headed home.

They just fitted together. And Jared wanted to keep having that feeling for a long time to come. He remembered all the times he'd been out with Tom and wished it had been Jensen. Jensen who got his jokes and laughed even when they weren't funny. Who always had time for him. Who was almost as good a friend as Gen in all the ways that counted.

"I think he's more than a friend," Jared ventured. "I want to find out." Then he remembered what Jensen had said. "But he said he thought I should just forget all about it."

 

Jared checked his emails late at night and was surprised to see another couple of booking requests. The band was succeeding beyond his hopes. They'd started out with friends and family and word of mouth and were managing to get requests from a much wider circle now. Jared pulled up the calendar he'd set up and started trying to see if they were free.

Highlighted in red, Pete's wedding date leaped off the page and mocked him. Maybe Pete would have been the one to ask about being in love. He was getting married and all. But Jared still hurt a little after the way he'd been thoroughly mocked for his "slutty" behavior on the dance floor. It was like his friends didn't believe he could actually carry on a relationship. The other guys seemed impressed at Jared's ability to attract endless amounts of cute young things, or so they claimed. Freedom and being single. Jared was half sure they'd been mocking Pete when they'd toasted him.

But Jared was pretty fed up of being the butt of their jokes, of being called slutty. Sure he liked to party. He was twenty-eight. He'd been to college. He was a lawyer for crying out loud. He had a decent job and a life and, yeah, maybe he still lived with his parents technically, but they were getting older and he was helping support them. He paid rent. And he had this band going and it was successful and it was fun. He'd never been much of a romantic, never felt anything like Jensen had been saying about thinking someone was "the one" before.

Why did everything in his brain always come back to Jensen?

Jared sent out the emails with the new dates - they had a booking pretty much every weekend until Pete's wedding. He hoped that they would all be able to make them.

 

  
Jensen booked days off work midweek. Turned out he could fly from San Antonio to Nashville early in the morning, only have to stay in a hotel a couple of nights and then he could head back to work and the band's gig on the Friday. He was oddly nervous. He hadn’t seen Chris for nearly three months, not since he’d help him move down to San Antonio. For all the promises of keeping in touch, they hadn’t really spoken.

Chris was supposed to be at the airport to pick him up, but Jensen received a text when he switched his phone back on in baggage claim. Apparently they would meet him at the studio. He grabbed his guitar from the belt and headed out to hail a taxi.

The studio didn’t look anything like he’d imagined. Then Jensen didn’t really have much of an idea what a music studio looked like. It was a pretty ordinary office building and he had to sign in at reception and wait for someone to come and fetch him. The building was quiet after noise of the street outside and Jensen gratefully sank into a chair in the lobby. He’d been up at the crack of dawn to get out here after all.

A pretty girl, bouncing blonde ponytail and all, came out of the elevator and nodded to Jensen. He shook her hand when she offered it and followed her. She asked how the flight had gone, made innocent small talk that Jensen could just about keep up with.

Chris and the others were sitting around a conference table when he got in. Chris’ eyes were red-rimmed and Jensen guessed that was why they’d not been there to meet them. It looked like the other guys were still pretty hungover too. He gratefully sipped at the coffee the girl offered him before she closed the door behind her.

There was a man in a suit at the top of the table. He didn’t look like anything Jensen had imagined a music producer to look. In fact, if Jensen wasn’t mistaken, he smelled of lawyer. “Mr Ackles, I presume. Arthur Kensington.”

Jensen stretched up over the table to shake his hand and settled back down. “Hi. My flight wasn’t late, I hope.”

“Not at all. Your friends just got here too.” There was something hinky in the lawyer’s tone. “Here’s the contract we want you to take a look at.”

He slid a thick pile of paper over to Jensen. Jensen took one look at the opening legalese and felt his stomach drop. He was going to need a lawyer to look over this and the only one he knew was one he wasn’t really technically talking to at the moment. “Could you summarize it and I’ll get my lawyer to look it over?”

The lawyer looked a little shocked at that. “Did your bandmates not explain? We fund a demo for you all and in return we get the rights to these three songs for one of our artists.” The man flicked through the pages and stopped. “Page 17.”

Jensen turned the pages. He stopped and scanned page seventeen until he found the names of the songs. “But these are mine,” he said, in shock. “They’re not any good.”

“Mr Kane assured us these were the property of the entire band. They are exactly what we’re looking for.” The lawyer was making notes on his pad. “We want to get these signed today so we can get you all into the studio tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “Do you think you can get that done today?”

Chris sat up from his slump. “C’mon, Jenny. Think about – our own demo! We all signed.” Chris looked angry, closed off and more pissed that Jensen could ever recall him being before. His face had lines Jensen didn’t remember, around his mouth. Frown lines. Jensen compared the man in front of him to the image of his friend he’d been carrying around in his head. It was like a spot the difference game all of a sudden.

Jensen pushed back from the table. “Do you have a phone I could use? An office or somewhere private?” Jensen really didn’t want to go into the bathroom to call Jared. “I can just call my lawyer and get back to you.”

The lawyer nodded and stood up. “I’ll let you use this room. Do you want your bandmates to stay? Or can I take them on the tour of our facilities?”

“It’s okay. Just- Who should I tell when I’m done?” Jensen ignored Chris’ scowl and stayed adamant. He wasn’t signing anything without talking to someone else and the best person for him to talk to would be Jared. He was the only lawyer Jensen knew personally, really. And it was more than that. He’d gotten used to talking to Jared about things. About pretty much everything. But it did mean speaking to him after a month of exchanging only emails and frosty greetings. Jensen wasn’t really looking forward to this at all.

“Arlene will be outside if you need anything.” The lawyer ushered the rest of them out. Jensen sank into the seat again and dragged the contract before him. He looked up as the door opened and the secretary – Arlene – poked her head round.

“Just hit 9 for an outside line.” She smiled at him before ducking back through the door.

Jensen took another steadying breath before punching in Jared’s cell number. He didn’t really want to think about how he had it memorized but hoped instead Jared would pick up. The phone rang and Jensen worried until Jared answered.

“Jared Padalecki.” He was in professional mode.

“It’s Jensen. I’m… I’m calling from Nashville. I wanted to talk to you.” Jensen rustled the paper. “About this contract.”

He heard Jared shutting a door. “I’m alone now. Hey. How’re you doing?” There was hesitation in Jared’s voice, but it was mainly over-ridden by a soft warmth. It made Jensen smile a little.

“I’m… I don’t know. I just wanted to call you and get your opinion. As a lawyer. And as my friend.” Jensen wasn’t sure why he tagged the last bit on but as he said it, he knew he meant it.

He could hear Jared’s answering smile. “So what are they offering.”

Jensen explained the whole deal. He could hear Jared scratching on paper at the other end and received an absent minded hmm now and again. Jared asked him to read out the preamble – the bit at the start – and then a few of the pages about the song and the demo.

“I’m not an entertainment lawyer, you know that.” Jared was hesitant. “But it comes down to who owns the songs. And since they’ve never been published, I would guess that still lies with the original composer. Who is you. But the documents seem to imply that they belong to the band.”

“I guess they do,” Jensen said. He felt a little traitorous though. Chris had always said they were playing his songs as a favor, that they weren’t that good. Jensen had always taken lead on them, played his guitar while the others backed him up. Or, took a break. Jensen didn’t even know how this record company had heard them.

Jared made a disapproving noise. ”Even still. I’d like you to get credit more than Kane. I mean. How egotistical is it for him to name the band after himself.”

“Lots of people do that. Bon Jovi…” Jensen knew that was a weak-ass example. He took a deep breath. “You know. They hadn’t even said hello or anything.”

“I thought they were picking you up at the airport?” Jensen felt good that Jared had remembered that detail. Even thought it had been mentioned in passing to one of the other guys in the band. There was that awkward tension between them that meant direct conversation was still a no-no. Until now apparently.

“They were hungover. I got a taxi here.” Jensen knew he sounded a little whiny. “It’s just that it’s not their songs, you know.”

“Jensen. I’m with you one hundred percent. Do you want me to come out there? Be some more support? ‘Cause I’d be telling that record guy that there’s been some misunderstanding and these songs are yours and yours alone.” Jared sounded serious as hell.

“But, I can’t do that to Chris and the band.” Jensen scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Would you… would you come out here for me?”

“Jensen, I could be there in four hours. If you want me.” Jared was already moving on the other side of the line. “Get them to fax the contract to my office and stall them. I’ll be there and we can work out what to do.”

Jensen felt a knot he hadn’t even realized that was tied in his gut loosen. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Jensen-“ Jared’s voice was still serious on the other side of the line. “We need to have a talk. I think.”

Jensen nodded then realized Jared couldn’t see him. “Yeah. We do.”

“But not until this is settled. Get them to fax it now. I’ll text you the number and then when I know more about my flight.” Jensen could hear Jared already typing on the other side of the line. They said goodbye and Jensen headed out of the office. Arlene was sitting behind her desk sorting some papers.

“My lawyer asked if you could fax this to him.” Jensen handed over his copy.

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks. You got a number?” Jensen fished his phone out of his pocket again and reeled it off. He wasn’t too sure how he felt about being called sweet cheeks. She moved to the back of the desk and slid the document into the machine and typed in the number. The pages seemed to take forever to go through. Jensen felt his phone vibrate again and he looked down to see a message from Jared confirming delivery.

“He’s got it.” Jensen wondered what he should do now. He still had all his luggage and his guitar. “I guess I should…”

“Here’s Mr Kensington now.” A harder smile slid onto Arlene’s face and Jensen wondered again if he was being super-sensitive.

The other guys were talking about how cool it was to have seen a real recording studio like backwater country hicks. Jensen felt a little embarrassed for them. He took his own copy of the contract back from Arlene and smiled at them. “So that was good?”

The others were quick to smile and tell him how big the studio was and everything. Jensen didn’t miss the impatient tapping of Mr Kensington’s feet. “My lawyer’s going to have a look at it. Can I get a number to call you at and we’ll get out of your hair?”

The guy nodded and fished out a business card. Jensen felt his phone vibrate again. “Any idea on when?”

His eagerness to have everything signed and sealed was a little worrying. It all added to Jensen’s general unease. He checked his phone, glad to have the distraction until he got his thoughts in order. “Jared says he’ll be in around two. So hopefully not long after that.”

“He’s flying here?” Mr Kensington’s eyebrows flew up. Chris’ own derisive comment wasn’t far behind.

“What? Your boyfriend flying out to hold your hand? Fuckin’ pansy.” He turned to the others and they laughed.

Jensen felt cold water replace the blood in his body. Was that what Chris really thought? He suddenly felt old and tired and really not ready for this at all. “Look. I was up really early. I’m going to go to my hotel, sleep and talk to you later. Try not to get too drunk.”

 

Life improved a little after a shower and something that wasn’t airport food. Jensen couldn’t settle himself to sleep but instead read through the documentation trying to make heads or tails of the dense legal language. He wondered if Chris had a lawyer look at it at all before signing. Probably not. It wasn’t the Chris sort of thing to do.

Jensen had a horrid feeling in the pit of his stomach that he was being used by his friend here. The songs on the table weren’t anything to do with the rest of the band. They were the things Jensen had written when he’d thought everything in the world would work out for him. When he thought everything was meant to be – band, friends, job. Boyfriend.

He must have finally fallen into a light doze, because a tapping at the door woke him up. He clutched the towel tightly around his waist and glanced through the peephole. It was Jared. Jensen looked down at himself and opened the door hesitantly.

“Come in. Then I can get dressed. Sorry.” Jared didn’t say anything. He was still in his work gear – suit and tie – although the tie had been loosened at the neck and the top button popped. He had a small carry on in one hand and his laptop case in the other. He looked the perfect professional. Jensen looked down at his towel again and let out a sigh.

Before he could say anything else, Jared wrapped him up in his arms and hugged. Being hugged by Jared was something Jensen never thought he’d get used to. It was a full body experience, head to toe. Jensen melted into it. He felt uncomfortable as hell with Jared’s hands on his naked back. But it was also kinda nice. Intimate.

Jared pulled back with an unreadable expression on his face. “Let’s get this mess sorted out.”

Jensen smiled at him. He went to grab some clothes out of his unpacked bag and he headed for the bathroom.

“And I got to order some lunch.” The comment floated through the door before he shut it. Typical Jared.

 

Jared took Jensen through the contract section by section. Essentially he was signing over all the rights to the songs. He wouldn’t even get a writer credit on the sleeve notes. He couldn’t even say he’d written the songs. Instead the band got to cut a four track demo that they would own all the rights to, but that the music company had first refusal on distribution rights.

“Way I see it, they get everything and you get very little.” Jared frowned. “It’s like a starter offer.”

“The others have already signed it.” Jensen pointed out. “What does that mean?”

“Do you want to sue them?” Jared’s voice was soft. “That’s an option.”

“But they’re my friends. And I guess I’m happy for them to record a demo.” Jensen ran his fingers through his hair. “There seems to be something time sensitive going on. The guy wanted us all to sign as soon as possible.”

Jared tapped his long fingers on the table beside the pile of paper. “I think you can ask for something else then. A lump sum? That might work. They’re your songs though. I want to see you get credit for them.”

Jensen looked up at the ceiling. The idea that someone wanted his songs was incredibly flattering. But money would also mean… Security and safety and a deposit on a house. Independence perhaps.

“Why don’t I call around? One of my buddies from law school ended up here. See what I can find out.” Jared shifted around in his briefcase and pulled out a small address book. Jensen checked his watch. It was getting on for the close of business hours.

“Do we have time?” Jensen chewed at his bottom lip. It was time for him to stop acting like a kid and man up. “I’ll call Kensington. Let him know that there’s a problem. Get him to extend his deadline.”

“And... If Chris puts the squeeze on you?” Jared was quite right there.

Jensen had decided that enough was enough. “Tough shit. He was happy enough to sell out my songs without asking. I think he can take a little worry.”

 

Of course, Chris wanted to know why Jensen was upset. It helped, however, that he’d been out drinking ever since they left the record company. He ended up crying over the phone to Jensen about the fact they’d grown up together and this was their dream and everything.

Jared politely didn’t listen to the call. He was busy on his own cell. Jensen finally got rid of Chris and ordered up a couple of burgers for their own dinner. By the time he’d done that and pottered around the room, tidying up, Jared was finished.

“Turns out one of their more popular singers found the songs on YouTube and decided to record them and not tell anyone. The record is a few weeks from release. You’re going national, Jen.” Jared grinned wolfishly. Jensen found it even more attractive. He’d never seen work-mode Jared in action. It was this whole other facet and Jensen… Jensen realized he wanted to find out all about the different aspects of Jared that he could. He wanted to know him inside and out. The last of the niggles about cheating and not wanting commitment and everything he’d been holding on to for way too long melted away and left behind one cold, hard truth. He could even forgive the accordion playing.

He was in love with Jared. And that wasn’t going anywhere soon.

Jared seemed to realize that the mood in the room had shifted. He swallowed.

“Did you get your own room?” Jensen asked. He had to cough. His voice was low.

“Didn’t have time. Just came straight to you.” Jared played with the end of his tie. He’d taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves but he was still pristine in his white shirt, stretching over his shoulders. Jensen let his eyes trace over the expanse, following the movement of Jared’s fingers. “We going to have this conversation, now?”

“Was that why you came to help me?” Jensen wished he could bite back the words but was forced to say them.

Jared shook his head. “I came because you’re my friend. And because I love you, I guess.”

Jensen shuffled to the edge of his bed. “You guess?” He was proud that he managed to keep his voice even.

Jared’s eyes were full of misery when he looked up. “I don’t want to put this on you. I’m happy to be your friend, your band mate. But all those lines about lawyers not having hearts? Guess they’re wrong too. I was wrong.”

Jensen watched Jared for a long moment. He saw no sign of the tease from the back yard the first time he’d met Jared. Or even of the drunken horndog who had kissed him the night of Pete’s bachelor party. Instead this was the guy who talked with so much passion about what he loved – his family, his music. And Jensen thought, maybe about him too.

He crossed the space between them and grabbed Jared by the tie, pulling him to his feet. Jared huffed out a laugh. “So that’s one of my fantasies fulfilled already.”

“Shut up,” Jensen ordered. Then he made it impossible for Jared to speak by sealing his mouth over Jared’s. There was no hesitation here. Jared kissed back thoroughly and surely. A weight Jensen had been carrying about with him for months suddenly vanished. He hadn’t been laid in months. And he’d been dreaming of Jared for almost as long.

Jensen found himself stumbling backwards until his knees hit the bed. His hands hadn’t been still either, pulling Jared’s shirt out of his pants, rubbing his ass through the thin material. And if that didn’t send Jensen’s arousal through the roof, he had no idea what would. Jared pulled back from the kiss to tug Jensen’s t-shirt up and off. Then he was slipping out of his tie and shirt while Jensen fumbled with both their belts. He couldn’t decide who he wanted to be naked first.

Jared’s mouth found his again just as Jensen managed to – finally – unzip his pants and let them fall to his ankles. Jared’s pants hit the ground with an equally resounding thud. Then Jensen was falling backwards and Jared covered him, acres of warm skin and Jensen spoiled for choice where to explore first.

Jared had a definite destination in mind. “Scoot up,” he murmured, letting his lips trail along Jensen’s jawline and down his neck. It took a moment for Jensen to realize what Jared was asking but Jared helped him understand by grabbing his hips and shoving him up the bed. Then he pulled Jensen’s boxers all the way off. There was no finesse here, no time taken for slow exploration. Jensen had a moment of clarity when he realized there would be time for that. Lots of time.

Then Jared sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth and Jensen just about shot off the bed. Jared certainly didn’t waste any time, sliding a hand down to hold Jensen to the bed while he enthusiastically sucked at Jensen’s cock until he felt like he might explode. Then Jared cruelly stopped.

“Want you to fuck me. Wanted it for so long.”

Jensen couldn’t take the desperation in Jared’s voice any longer. He sat up and pulled Jared into another kiss, tasting himself in Jared’s mouth. “So fucking hot.” No time, nor brain capacity, for anything other than stating the obvious.

Jared moaned against his mouth.

Jensen had to leave the bed to grab the lube from his overnight bag in the bathroom. The reluctance to break away from Jared and his talented mouth was nearly overwhelming. Jensen knew he had a condom in his wallet, but when he strode back out of the bathroom, Jared was already unwrapping a condom, his jacket pocket turned inside out, a box ripped out of the plastic on the nightstand.

“They let you fly with those?” Jensen asked, dropping the tube on the bed and leaning over to kiss Jared again. He couldn’t stop it. He trailed his lips down Jared’s neck, tasting the sweat and aftershave and the honey sweet of Jared’s skin.

“Might have grabbed them in the airport,” Jared replied, arching into Jensen’s touch. Jensen licked at the erect nub of nipple and felt himself grow harder when Jared let out a wanton cry. Jensen told himself to remember that for later as he opened the lube and slicked up his fingers. No time to waste, Jensen knelt up on his heels.

“On your stomach. Turn over.” Jared was elegant as he rolled on the bed, getting his knees under him and offering himself to Jensen. His long spine curved gracefully up to the fall of hair at his neck and Jensen couldn’t resist touching, stroking, caressing. He was trembling as he pressed a fingertip to Jared’s hole. A little bit of pressure and his finger slid in to the knuckle. He had to lean over and press a kiss to Jared’s shoulder then, biting back the urge to tell Jared exactly how hot and silky smooth and tight he felt. The thought of that tight, hot pressure on his own cock made Jensen’s mind go blank. He twisted in another finger, feeling Jared stretch underneath him.

Something hit him in the face, breaking his concentration. He looked up from where his gaze was fixed on where his fingers were entering Jared to see Jared grinning over his shoulder. Jensen smiled lazily, crooking his fingers to see Jared’s grin give way. Instead Jared dropped his head, bit his bottom lip and huffed out another groan. Jensen pulled his fingers free and slid on the condom Jared had thrown at him. He slicked himself, holding the base of his cock tightly for a moment. This wasn’t going to last long, but he’d be damned if he came before Jared did.

Jared’s hand shot back to control the pace as Jensen pressed in. It was even money as to whether he’d last until he was fully seated, as Jared was even tighter and hotter than he’d imagined. Jared’s fingers tightened convulsively on his skin as Jensen stopped. He stayed still until Jared thrust out a grunted, “Move.”

Jensen started shallowly, half to control himself and half to take care of Jared. He could feel Jared working his own cock hard and fast using his own hand and it destroyed his own control. Jensen sped up, thrusting hard and fast until he couldn’t rein it in any more. His mouth was open, panting nonsense. Jared didn’t seem to care, working himself harder and harder until he tensed all over. Jensen felt the flutter of muscles pull his own orgasm out and he thrust a few more times until he came.

 

  
Later, Jared had Jensen pulled close, his back against Jared’s chest. He’d wrapped his arm around Jensen and splayed it flat on his chest. They’d slept, exhausted by everything, and Jared had woken to the tired and slightly sore feeling that told him he’d had really good sex. Jensen was also playing with his fingers.

“D’you want me to move?” Jared had asked sleepily. Jensen grabbed his hand and pulled him even tighter. Jared had brushed a kiss at the nape of Jensen’s neck, suddenly incredibly astonished that he was allowed to do that.

“I’ve decided what I’m going to do.” Jensen’s voice was soft yet firm, resolute. Jared nodded to show he was listening. “I’m going to sign over the rights. I can always write more songs. The others can have their demo. I’d like some cash, but mainly because I think that I’d like to buy a new truck.”

Jared placed another opened mouth kiss at the back of Jensen’s shoulder. He didn’t think he’d ever stop wanting to taste him, to touch him. To show him how much he loved him. A wild bubbling feeling filled him, making everything light. “I can probably do that. I like your truck, though.”

“You just want to make out in the truck bed.” Jensen lay quiet for a moment, breathing evenly. Jared wondered if he had fallen asleep again. “And then I’d like to go home.”

“To Dallas?” Jared nosed at Jensen’s shoulder again.

Jensen stiffened in his arms and then scooted around on the bed. “No, stupid. To San Antonio.” He looked angry. So Jared kissed him, sleep stale breath and all. Kissed him pretty damn thoroughly. Kissed him until they were both breathless. It was all he had been hoping for. Better. Jared felt more right in this hotel room than he’d done in his own skin for quite some time.

“What are you going to do there, Mr Ackles?” Jared tried for serious but mainly failed when Jensen grabbed his suddenly interested dick.

“Take a guess.” Jensen kissed Jared, pushing at his shoulder to make him lie back. Jared went willingly, ready for round two.

“You going to write me a song?” Jared asked as Jensen started to kiss down his chest, fingers playing with the definition of his abs. Jensen didn’t answer, mouth too engaged with sucking Jared down. Jared thought he probably could predict Jensen’s answer. Yes. Yes to everything.

 

 **Epilogue**

  
Pete’s wedding was going smoothly. The ceremony itself had been simple – the pastor not spending too long on his sermon, the readings not too long. Jared had kept shifting until Pete told him out of the side of his mouth to quit it. It wasn’t his fault that his boyfriend looked hot like burning in a tux. Jared could tell that Jensen was harboring similar thoughts as his eyes weren’t so much fixed on the wedding party as fixated on Jared.

There had been a debate about changing into “band” uniforms at the reception but Jared had strenuously resisted. He wanted to peel Jensen out of his outfit and, well, do things he really really shouldn’t be thinking about when talking to Pete’s grandmother. Jensen caught his eye over her head and smirked. The bastard knew exactly what was going through Jared’s head as he surreptitiously brushed a hand down his lapel. Jared brought his fingers up to play with his bow tie and Jensen’s smirk faltered.

Eric and Matthew had opted for the more usual suit and tie option and had loosened off their ties and lost their jackets by the time it came for them to play. There was a DJ sure enough for later but this was their wedding present to the bride and groom. Well, one of their wedding presents. Jensen had argued that Pete deserved something really damn special for being the one to introduce them and had guilted Jared into paying for flight upgrades for their honeymoon. The happy couple didn’t know about that just yet.

Lauren had managed to evade all her mother’s attempts to weigh her down with a meringue and was simple and elegant in a sheath dress, flitting between the tables and talking to everyone. Pete couldn’t stop watching her, obviously astonished that this woman had agreed to be his wife.

Maybe Jared understood that better than he had in the past.

He drew on his accordion and checked that nothing had disturbed it while Jensen returned his guitar. Then it was time. Jensen tapped the microphone and asked for the bride and groom to take the floor for their first dance. Lauren had been quite particular with what she wanted, but it hadn’t really caused many issues for the band. Slow, romantic and gentle, with Jensen’s honey rich voice weaving a spell with the lyrics.

After a few more numbers, and a lot of dancing, Jared glanced across at Jensen and watched him smile out at the crowd. He’d worried that Jensen was settling for him, was giving up some kind of dream, just for him. The opportunity to be a full time songwriter had been put on the table, back in Nashville. Jensen seemed perfectly content though. More than that. Jensen seemed to be the happiest Jared had ever seen him. There was none of the lingering hurt, none of the realization of the cost of standing up to people who were supposed to be your friends. Jensen looked over, rolled his eyes and tapped the microphone once more for attention.

“I’ve got a special song right now. We’re going to be taking a break after this, so the DJ’ll be playing some music you can actually dance to.” Against the scattered laughter of the party, Jensen leaned back and nodded to Eric who counted in a beat. Jared expected some romantic, soft acoustic number, especially since no one had actually told him what they were playing.

Instead Jensen started a very, very familiar song. It took Jared a moment to realize what they were playing but when it sunk in, Jared grinned. He didn’t know where Jensen had picked up the tune from, but in secret his boyfriend had learned to play Skoda Lasky. Jared swung into the familiar music at the appropriate moment, unable to stop smiling over the top of his accordion. His parents swung out onto the floor followed by all sorts of people. They moved in a rough jumble, hopping and skipping and Jared thought his heart had never been this full.

Jensen finished up the tune with a flourish and told everyone they’d be back after a break. Then he finally made eye contact with Jared and jerked his head. They had a room booked in the country club and Jared suddenly felt the urge to take Jensen back there and fuck him stupid. Jensen seemed to have much the same idea, grabbing Jared’s hand and steering them through the crowd, avoiding anyone wanting to start conversations. They scurried across the lobby and into the elevator. Finally Jensen pulled Jared close and kissed him hard, hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You learned polka for me,” Jared whispered when they broke apart. He had time for another taste of Jensen’s lips before the elevator arrived at their floor.

They stumbled out and walked so quickly it might have been a run along the hallway to their room. Jensen had the key card ready and the door was open within seconds.

The door was shut even sooner and Jensen was pressed up against it, being kissed thoroughly again. “Fuck,” Jared bit out. “Can’t believe you did that.”

Jensen shoved so Jared came off him and fell back towards the bed. The anticipation was making thinking hard. “You know why?”

Jared shook his head but still had enough presence of mind to lose his jacket and start unfastening his belt. He’d let Jensen take off his tie. Only seemed right. “Because you realized how amazing the accordion is?”

“No, dumbass.” Jensen didn’t look annoyed as brought his hands up to frame Jared’s face, to hold him tight. Jared stopped fussing and covered Jensen’s hands with his own. “It’s because I think you’re amazing.”

There was nothing Jared could really say to that. Jensen kissed him again and Jared tried to pour everything into the way he opened his mouth for Jensen, lay back for Jensen and parted his thighs. Jensen moaned at the sight, peeling off Jared’s tie and unbuttoning his shirt, stopping to kiss the bare skin it revealed as it opened. Jensen stripped himself, too quickly for Jared’s tastes and not quick enough. Jared longed to have his hands on Jensen’s skin, like an addict desperate for just one more hit. Jensen fended off his arms as he reached for the lube, slicking up his hand and prepping Jared proficiently and gently. He slid home, pausing to let Jared adjust around him while Jared urged him on by holding himself wide, letting Jensen press deep inside him. Jared just about came when Jensen thrust into him, tilting his hips and hitting the perfect angle to make Jared see stars.

They lay gasping, afterwards, side by side, Jensen curling his hand around Jared’s hips. Then Jared remembered what to say. “Love you,” he murmured, low and soft into Jensen’s ear.

Jensen nuzzled his nose against Jared’s cheek. “Know you do. No doubt about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I started another story (which I’ll finish, maybe) and got 8000 words in before stuttering to a halt. There was no sparkle, no spark. And I had pretty much given up hope of finishing the challenge. A sad and sorry state of affairs. Then a glimmer of an idea took seed. One evening, my mother in law took control of the remote and we started watching a documentary about accordion playing (The World Accordion to Phil, presented by Phil Cunningham, a Scottish musician. I love the BBC. Who else would make this kind of programme?). As he visited the San Antonio Accordion club, I joked on Twitter that I could see Jared playing there. A seed was born, fertilised by watching the other three hours of the documentary. I know more about accordions than I ever thought I would (or would want to). Every day is a school day.
> 
> Part of this story was written under must achieve word count duress to break the back of the story. Part of it was written in Amsterdam where every meeting of street and canal seemed to house an accordion player. All of it was written during my Easter holidays. And I don’t even know where most of this came from.
> 
> Thanks to PepperVL and Ratherastory was mocking me until I decided to write it. Thanks to the Twitter crowd for being forbearing enough to listen to me whine. Thanks to Arabia764 for the read over and the reassurance (and everything else) and to cloudyjenn for the amazingly fantastic Ameripick. Thanks to wendy and thehighwaywoman for running the challenge – much love – and again, thanks SPN fandom for being so amazing. We may be slightly crazy, but it’s the good kind.


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